Hearts of Ice
by Teemuu
Summary: From the Grey Wastes of Hades to the frozen marshes of Stygia, Commander Reyzenhart a monstrous Ice Devil of the Pit, has established himself as a formidable force in the Bloodwars. However, every berk knows that allies are more deadly than foes when dealing in the politics of hell, and the hardest shell is no protection from a wound to the heart. (My Nanowrimo draft)
1. Chapter 1

The Field of Nettles, somewhere in the Gray Wastes of Hades.

"Commander Reyzenhart, my spinagon scouts say that the tanarri have bottled themselves in the Ribcracker chasm. They chased our decoys just like you predicted," reported Sergeant Garthraxus, a hulking brute of a fiend with an overgrown spiked beard, wearing a heavy black breastplate over his great barrel chest.

An audible clicking noise and the clatter of shifting chitinous plates responded in approval.

Lieutenant Yamon nodded silently, the flames inside his armor flared briefly at the news. The narzugon commander shifted uneasily in anticipation of battle.

Targen the chief Spinagon, a short leathery winged devil covered in spikes hissed with delight but was generally ignored by the other fiendish commanders.

"Lord Reyzenhart, your troops are ready. They await your command, " stated Lieutenant Allisonara ,a smirking dark winged woman. Though her demure beauty was undeniable and her face angelic, her iron tipped wings, jagged scars, and fierce tattoos marker her as more fiend than celestial.

Another hiss and chatter sounded from the large stark white creature that looked more insect than humanoid in appearance. It clicked and clacked to the assorted fiends which appeared confused at the sounds.

"Eh,march at half speed?" questioned Garthraxus with a hiss. "Vilehorn will be long gone when we get there. The pit knows it's hard enough to move through these wastes with the lack of flying and shifting available to us. "

Yamon shifted the helmet of his flaming armor downwards slightly before raising it up. The assembled fiends assumed he was vouching his support for the bearded devil.

Suddenly, a long spear, seemingly made of ice, flashed towards Garthraxus. While the bearded devil was famed for his skill with the glaive, it reacted too slow to block the spear as it buried itself into its equally famed beard. Garthraxus's eyes bulged in anticipation of the killing blow, but was relieved to find he was spared.

A flurry of quick clicking noises sounded from the giant white chitin insect, before the speed of its klaks and chitters slowed to the point where they echoed around the sharp rock pillars around them.

Garthraxus , Targen , and Yamon both nervously bowed and returned to their posts, glad that they had survived the encounter with their commander. Allisonara however remained behind.

"Why do you torment them so? Why pretend to be something you're not," she laughed as the bearded devil and the narguzon rejoined their ranks.

A series of rapid clicking noises followed, but the erinyes simply held out her hand. "Please, we're alone. No need to cow me with your power," she smiled as she held up her hands in a mocking pleading manner.

The chitin covered ice devil, nodded and his form collapsed into a wholly humanoid figure cloaked in a simple blue and white robe. He had pale white skin and dark blue almost black hair and a short goatee which were both stiff and well groomed. The shifted Gelgulon appeared like any of the vast ranks of tieflings that served both sides of the Bloodwar, save for a slight aristocratic demeanor around him.

"Better?" he asked as he brushed off some of the battlefield's famed loose nettles that had snagged on his robe. While the thorny vines were a mere annoyance in his true monstrous form, his humanoid one lacked its protective chitinous plates.

"Much," smiled Allisonara. "As I was saying, you didn't need to do the act with the spear. We've already literally followed you to the Abyss and back, at least you can do is cut them some slack."

Reyzenhart snickered at her comment, and pointed to himself in feigned shock. "The great and terrible Allisonara is lecturing me about cutting their troops slack? Aren't you the one that gave a decimation order to the company of Spinagon under your control? "

The Erinyes frowned and her playful manner vanished from her face," They fled in battle, a lesson must be taught."

Reyzenhart shook his head."There is a big difference between running and being routed from being over runned. Who in their right mind would expect a pack of three foot winged imps that throw spikes to stand up to a platoon of nine foot tall vulture demons. "

"The upper hierarchies' only care about results, not our mercy. The next company of spinagon would do well to remember their brother's fates," explained the dark winged angel.

Reyzenhart sighed while shaking his head," The enemy out numbers us roughly ten to one. We only beat them because we take advantage of their disorganization. We're like a raft atop a tumultuous ocean, only by working together can we stay afloat. I know that's how they do things in the hells, but I think we do not have the luxury of sacrificing our troops to send a message. A simple threat should have been sufficient motivation."

Allisonara considered his words then her bright, almost angelic smile returned. Reyzenhart knew that many of the first fallen angels were transformed into Erinyes devils, a dark mirror image of their once radiant selves, and he wondered if Allisonara was a member of that original batch or a creature creature created by the pits much later.

"You are much too soft my lord. If you were less competent , someone else , myself included, would certainly attempt to usurp your command . I see now that whole act with the spear was meant to re-establish the pecking order back into the Thorn Legion. To hide your weakness and teach them not to question your commands, "nodded the dark angel smugly.

"Actually, I think my spear got caught in his thick throat," joked Reyzenhart. "But seriously , I need for them to do what I tell them to without knowing why. We both know it's the only way to get around this blasted battleground." Allisonara nodded but Reyzenhart knew she didn't fully understand.

The Field of Nettles was a battleground in the Bloodwars that had been contested for countless millennia. A patch of rocky ground three hundred by three hundred miles, choking with poisonous thorny vines that was bordered by impossibly mountains to the west and east, and more importantly the River Styx on the north and south. The dark river flowed both to Baator and to the Abyss making it one of the most important strategic battlegrounds in the great fiendish war. However, due to the hotly contested nature of this area, both sides threw countless forces into this area to either gain control or deny the enemy control of it. Countless armies have fought and were grounded up in this area for a few miles of ground that would eventually be lost again. Neither side had ever managed to achieve anything but a foothold in this battleground, but that didn't stop them from trying. Besides the fierce winds that made flying impossible, and the warded rocks that limited teleportation magic, the whole area seemed to work against those that wished to travel. A march that should take a day might take a week in the Field of Nettles. Reyzenhart and his legion had survived here longer than many of their contemporaries and to his credit was even able to hold the enemy shore long enough to launch several crippling raids into the Abyss. A unique feat that endeared him to his own troops, but Reyzenhart knew it irked his superiors greatly.

"A nail that sticks out, is just waiting to be hammered, " mused the shifted Ice devil.

"Excuse me? " asked Allisonara. Reyzenhart rolled his eyes at his own comment. As a Gelugon or ice devil, he easily mastered communicating both with clicks and his limited telepathy, however in his tiefling form he often said words outloud instead of thinking them in his mind.

"I'm being recalled back to Stygia you know. Archduke Geryon has requested me in his personal guard. The word in the chant is that yet another civil war is brewing. I've recommended that you take over my position after I leave," revealed Reyzenhart.

"Aww how sweet," teased Allisonara as she slipped into a Sigil accent. "However we both know that the higher ups have most likely a handpicked replacement to punish in mind. I'm sure they'll take your recommendation with the highest level of consideration before they install some clueless berk that made some sort of diplomatic gaffe somewhere. But seriously, that's great for you , and horrible for us. You're the best commander we've had for the last three hundred years, and I doubt your replacement can fill what passes for your giant insect clogs. It still surprises me to this day, that you are not only good at this job, but you seem to relish it as well. Infact, I'll wager the lot of us would be killed and we'll reform back in the hells as lemures or something lowly like that under the command of this new clueless commander. "

Reyzenhart shuddered at the thought. Most denizens of the lower planes were not only hard to kill, but in most cases they had to be killed multiple times. If one of them died while not on their own plane, their spirits, after being greatly weakened, would be sent screaming back to their point of origin. The lower ones would simply be reabsorbed into whatever hellish plane spawned them, while the higher ones would be physically transformed and demoted to a lower form. Greater outsiders like himself might be simply banished or reform in their original forms, depending on their power. Most prefer banishment rather than claw through the ranks again, but Reyzenhart disagreed. He had lived so long that he had forgotten his existence before he became an ice devil. A demotion would hurt his pride, but he welcomed the challenge and expectations of new sensations and abilities, however reduced they may be. The exile to his home plane part however was something he could not stand. Most people saw his current posting as a sort of punishment or delayed death sentence, but Reyzenhart enjoyed his time out of the hells. Even if it was to the Gray Wastes, it was something new.

As Reyzenhart considered the horrors of being locked in his homeplane, a dirt smudged human wearing an oversize backpack marched towards him and gave a curt bow. She was tall and had shoulder length brown hair which framed her strong angular features. Reyzenhart waved her to proceed, but saw that her presence troubled his Erinyes comrade.

"Garthraxus's barbazu and Yamon's Narguzon have begun their march. Kelgor's hound handlers are straggling behind," reported the human named Ella.

Reyzenhart cracked a smile and waved the human away before turning his attention to Allisonara again. "See, I'm not as soft as I look. My strong arm tactics worked."

The dark winged angel ignored him as she watched the human named Ella leave the clearing, when she finally left she huffed in annoyance. "You are your own worst enemy. Nobody would suspect you of being soft if you didn't do stuff like keeping that human around. You treat her like a pet for the pits sake, it's stomach churning really. We should just eat her and get it over with."

Reyzenhart smirked," Jealous?"

Allisonara narrowed her eyes at the insult. "Hardly. Her mortal powers cannot match my wits, might or beauty. " To emphasize her point, the dark angel twirled once around in a graceful dance to demonstrate her charms.

Reyzenhart raised an eyebrow at the sight of the pirouetting Erinyes. While he was essentially a giant fiendish insect masquerading as a man, he still appreciated the rare beauty before him. "You really are jealous aren't you? I assure you that I have no plans to err…produce half fiends or tieflings with the lovely Ella. I keep her around for more practical purposes."

Allisonara did not look amused. "We'll discuss eating your lovely assistant later. I have to marshal my dark sisters. I doubt that idiot Garthraxus is scouting the path thoroughly."

"Aye, this might be my last battle here for quite some time. I don't really care about winning or losing, but I do care about leaving alive. Best not leave things to chance," he said in agreement.

* * *

The march through the Field of Nettles was quicker than anyone had expected. What should have taken days was accomplished in a few hours by the Thorn Legion. While most of the devils under Reyzenhart's command attributed it to their leader's mastery of the terrain the solution was actually much simpler.

Reyzenhart had figured out a long time ago that this particular battleground seemed to delight in frustrating its combatants. If you wanted to reach a place quickly the terrain would somehow warp itself to cause your journey to be much longer. Conversely the less willing you appear to march into battle, the quicker you arrive instead. It was not a unique feature though, as Reyzenhart had encountered something similar in the caves of Pandemonium and the mazes of the iron city of Dis, but it was strange enough to throw entire armies into confusion. Reyzenhart considered telling his own troops the secret, but he wondered if the act of knowing to go slow would actually mean that they wanted to reach the location quickly, resulting in the plane stymieing them out of spite. It was a ridiculous hypothesis but one that Reyzenhart did not want to test. Best to stick with what works. The ice devil was content to keep this trick his own secret, but was contemplating revealing it to Allisonara after he left.

As the Legion of Thorns approached Ribcracker chasm, Reyzenhart began positioning the elements of his army. He kept his melee troops in reserve while positioning his Erinyes archers, Spinagon spine throwers and oddly enough his Orthon shock troopers near the edge of the chasm. The maggot filled Orthons were commonly used as front line troops, but most commanders often overlooked their missile ability. Reyzenhart thought that in this battle, their skill with the crossbow trumped their mastery of the pike.

Before he committed his forces though, Reyzenhart sifted through his scouts' reports.

Allisonara counted roughly two thousand of the Tanarri in the chasm, mostly dretches and rutterkin, with a few babau whipping them forwards. His own forces numbered close to a thousand, but he still considered this good odds since they were often outnumbered by even greater margins.

Another Erinyes ' report stated that Lady Naome and two companies of mixed devils had been spotted nearby, most likely attracted by Vilehorns presence as well. This was unexpected but a pleasant surprise. The nature of the battleground made keeping track of ones foes, let alone allies impossible. The lovely Lady Naome was once the consort of Archduke Belial but had fallen out of his favor. As punishment, she was given a company of Baatezu to fight in the Bloodwars and sent to the front lines of the Gray wastes. To everyone's surprise she not only survived, but carved a small kingdom for herself in the wastes. She had always been cordial with Reyzenhart, and the ice devil thought he could always count on her aid if needed.

Lastly, Targen the Spinagon reported a small group of Eladrin, celestial elven spirits that often crusaded throughout the lower planes, in the area. The creatures of light were considered wild cards by Reyzenhart as they attacked both sides of the war indiscriminately. There was no denying their power, but fortunately they were few in numbers.

Satisfied that there wasn't any hidden subterfuge or traps set by the enemy. Reyzenhart ordered the attack to commence.

The steel devils that he used as bait for Vilehorn were very hard to crack when locked into their phalanx formations, and were able to tie up the front ranks of the Demonic horde. While the chasm walls were treacherous and buffeted by high winds, Reyzenhart had the area scouted and prepared paths for his archers to get into position. From his vantage point at the mouth of the chasm, he saw his troops quickly get into position and then began raining arrows and quarrels down on their foe. Instead of milling about in confusion the demons began assaulting and scaling the walls. Reyzenhart had expected such a tactic and waited for their attack to be broken against the rocks, but to his surprise it appeared that they were quickly scaling the walls.

The ice devil did not expect this. Something wasn't right. He signalled for a general retreat but was interrupted by a fiendish roar from his reserves. Reyzenhart was shocked as he saw Yamon's cavalry supported by Garthraxus's spearmen charge towards the demon host.

"Someone signalled the reserves to charge," noted Ella nervously as she stated the obvious. The battle was going terribly wrong. The archers were supposed to rain withering fire down on the demons as hellhounds were released to keep them bottled up. The Barbazu spearmen and Narzugon cavalry were meant to close the trap not to lead the charge.

A strange feeling filled Reyzenhart as he watched the battle fall apart, something that he never felt before. While he spent most of his life seeking new experiences and sensations this was something he had never encountered before. The dread of failure as he watched all his plans unravel.


	2. Chapter 2

Amirah Froststorm howled through the sky. While others were under the constraints of the strange magics of this fiendish battleground, the fierce buffeting winds that grounded all others had no effect on her. Mighty pitfiends, and powerful balors were forced to the ground. Even quick spinagons and agile chasme could not withstand the gales of the Field of Nettles. For Amirah though, the winds were nothing. She was the wind, she was the hurricane.

Amirah was the first scout of Kelvan Starbreeze's warband, it was her duty to seek out the demonic host where ever they were weakest. An easy task considering her zephyr agility, speed , and mobility. She commonly found small grounds of demons, separated or deserted from their posts, but she preferred rooting out small bands led by their true tanarri masters. Afterwards, the Ghaele knight Kelvan and the rest of his warriors would sweep down upon the demons, with Amirah right in the thick of things. Even though Amirah was a Bralani Eladrin, a spirit of frozen wind and northern storms, hers was the noblest of heritage and the fiercest of spirits, a celestial avenger born to hunt and battle her demonic foes.

While Kelvan's warband would seemingly strike at their foes at random, today was different. The scent of their old foe Vilehorn the Corruptor was in the air, and the small band of Eladrin were eager to finally bring him justice, which to the Eladrin meant death by lances of light or by their holy blades. Vilehorn was one of the demons that slew their ancient champion Vaeros, and despite being a balor, a fire demon that personified power, the Eladrin here were sworn to slay him.

Vilehorn's scent was mingled by the stench of rotted fields and the stink of a million corpses, and then further scattered by the fierce winds that dominated the sky, but Amirah's will was not to be denied. The spirit of wind, discerned the hated balor and his army were currently waiting under cover in a great crack in the ground surrounded by rock formations that resembled grasping fingers or carrion picked ribs. Amirah knew she should simply report his location to Kelvan but thought the entire situation odd. While taking refuge in the Field of Nettles rugged terrain was not uncommon for small groups of demons, an army such as the two thousand strong demons that were under Vilehorn's command would be effectively pinned if they faced their ancient baatezu foes. She knew that demons were often prone to make tactical blunders, but as a whole the species were not stupid.

Amirah flew closer to the enemy's ranks and discovered the reason that they were in the chasm. The demons had trapped a platoon of steel devils and were moving in for the kill. While the creatures were far from fast moving, she thought it odd that they would allow themselves to be caught as easily as they did. She then streaked through the sky , eager to report her findings to Kelvan.

* * *

As Amirah returned to her warband, the Eladrin was surprised to find nearly three companies of devils slowly encircling Vilehorn's position. Several groups had already descended the edge of the canyon while the rest waited in reserve to cut down those that fled. As if that's not enough , another two companies of the Pit dwellers were huddled behind the briar choked hills nearby. A sort of emergency reserve she guessed. Amirah thought this was all a very elaborate to trap a few thousand demons, but the Baatezu were known for their meticulous plans as much as they were known for their evil. With that knowledge in mind, she howled through the sky once more to report to Kelvan.

Amirah howled her report as she streaked through her Eladrin brothers and sisters. She was nearly invisible to the naked eye, but the angry trails of ice and the dust she kicked up from the ground gave an observer a close approximation of her location. While Amirah screeched through the warband, the other Eladrin batted away her winds.

"Please Amirah, change forms, "ordered Oberon Starfarer, an overly demanding minor tulani noble that had not fully come into either his birthright or powers yet. He was in the form of a regal looking elf, complete with glittering mail that all too often gave away their positions in battle. Amirah knew he only joined their esteemed warband simply to boost his lagging reputation in the court, and she decided long ago he had not earned her trust enough to be obeyed. Besides, she didn't listen to his order because preferred her wind form rather than her humanoid one. She was speed, she was the hurricane.

"Firestorm, please, " echoed Kelvan with a twist of her name. Anyone else who would have mocked her so, she would have slain but Kelvan was one of the few Eladrin or beings for that matter which Amirah respected. He was a hero of the esteemed Ghaele elite, a caste of Eladrin famed for their peerless demon hunting skills. An elven spirit clad in dark greens armor that appeared both festive and functional at the same time. While Amirah would not follow Oberon's command, she gladly listened to Kelvan's.

At his request, she spun in place and in a split second assumed her humanoid form, an elf with long red hair wearing a veil, and adorned with flowing crimson cloths and silks. With her large expressive eyes, high cheek bones, and flawless pale skin, her beauty was often praised, but she paid little attention to such frivolities. She wore numerous pieces of delicate jewelry, but it didn't seem out of place or showy. She had a pair of jeweled scimitars at her side that oddly did not look out of place considering her delicate appearance. Though many Bralani often wore white's and blue's to suit their cold winds, Amirah preferred crimsons and reds to match her hair, a not uncommon choice for the sometimes erratic Eladrin. As her form fully materialized she bowed before her lord and repeated her report once again in a more understandable fashion.

"Vilehorn's demons have chased a small band of roughly fifty steel devils into the nearby hole,"she began but was quickly interrupted.

"Ribcracker's chasm, " corrected young Fiawa with a smile, a small delicate fairy like Eladrin with spectral rainbows for wings. Amirah frowned at the little creature, but quickly broke into a grin at her friend's infectious enthusiasm.

"as I was saying, Vilehorn's forces have chased a band of devils into Ribcracker chasm, but it appears he himself have fallen into a baatezu trap. I count Vilehorn's forces at roughly 2500, while there are roughly 1000 devils surrounding him and another 800 nearby as a reserve," reported Amirah.

Kelvan considered her words and narrowed his eyes at the chasm. "Curious that our old foe would bring such a large horde to catch such a small band of devils, are there any other demons nearby?"

Amirah shook her head, " no my lord. I scouted the area thoroughly." Amirah knew about the strange forces at work at the Field of Nettles. The more you wish to arrive at one place the slower you would reach it. This particular effect had grounded many charging hordes of demons, or orderly marches of devils, and was a key reason why neither side of the fiends maintained an upper edge for long. Amirah however, was one of the few that was relatively unaffected by this phenomena. She could fly or even walk if forced to throughout the battleground with no detriment to her speed, a feat that eluded most of her Eladrin comrades even after knowing the nature of this hellish landscape. Amirah would always smile and say her motto of "I am speed, I am the hurricane" but Kelvan jokingly suggested that her mind was too often preoccupied with thoughts of killing fiends and not about arriving at a destination, a statement that Amirah did not protest.

"We should just let the fiends sort it out between themselves and swoop down on the victor," stated Oberon. Amirah glared at him and thought his observation sounded more like a command. While he was a Tulani Eladrin, the highest caste of nobility outside of Queen Morwell, Kelvan was the one in charge of their warband. Amirah thought it inappropriate for Oberon to act like he knew better, especially considering his inexperience in war. "Let them slaughter each other for us."

Kelvan ignored his comment as he focused on the battlefield. The Ghaele lord then turned to Amirah. "Did you see who was leading the Baatezu legions?"

"No my lord, " she responded. Unlike demons , whose leaders often motivated their followers in the front ranks through their power and force of personality, devil commanders were more subtle and discreet, and preferred to lead from the rear, or sometimes not even from the battlefield at all. Amirah wasn't sure if it was cowardice, but it certainly didn't affect their effectiveness.

Kelvan frowned and then turned to small Fiawa. The smallest of the Eladrin did a small flip in the air with her rainbow wings at his attention but quickly focused on the task. Her eyes went blank briefly as she muttered questions into the void, but soon they returned as bright and cheerful as ever. "There are two leaders to the devil legions. The leader of the larger legion is protected by magics and indiscernible, the commander of the smaller one is the fallen lady of Phlegthos, Mistress Naome former consort to ….."

Amirah saw the Sprite like Fiawa hesitate to say the name of the dark power. It was a practice by many mortal and outsider alike to not name demon lords or archdukes directly , for fear that it would bring their attention on the speaker, but Amirah did not share such notions. "Belial , " she finished.

Kelvan nodded even as Oberon suppressed a bored yawn. "If you cannot scry the leader of the larger legion, can you tell me who their second in command is?"

Fiawa looked puzzled for a moment then nodded her head vigorously, spraying several rainbow motes around in the process. She then allowed her eyes to go blank as she repeated the process, and returned with a big grin on her face. "It is the Erinyes known as Allisonara, " she declared.

"Darkwing," whispered Amirah in reference to one of her few fiendish rivals on this plane. They had met a few times in battle, but their conflicts always ended in a stalemate, her lightning and winds versus her arrows and enchanted rope. Amirah looked forward to getting another chance to defeat her opponent and began cracking her knuckles in anticipation. While she disliked all aspects of her humanoid/elven form, the cracking of knuckles was one of the few she liked. While some Eladrins only had one form, she didn't understand why the rest that had two like herself, favored their humanoid forms so much. Amirah found little pleasure in such acts as eating, drinking, dancing, kissing , and of course lovemaking, she much rather spend her time enjoying the freedom of being the wind. She heard from Fiawa once that Oberon was especially fond of the acts of kissing and lovemaking , a fact that drove his status even lower in her eyes, especially when she spotted him leering at her and appraising her humanoid form.

While Amirah was momentarily lost in thought about Allisonara and Oberon, Kelvan rubbed his chin. "Reyzenhart, " he said. " Allisonara works only for the Gelugon Reyzenhart, a most dangerous and capable foe, " he noted.

Amirah had heard of the creature but had never met him directly on the battlefield. He was a sort of local legend around these parts. Besides his numerous stunning victories over the numerically superior Tanarri forces, he also had the ability to move his entire legion in a similar fashion that she could only manage for herself. She often thought it odd for ice devils to even exist since the pits were known for their flames and fires, but Fiawa often teased in return that Amirah was equally odd for being so hot headed and impulsive when she was from a caste known for their frozen stoic natures.

"So, I guess when the smoke clears, we either fall upon old Vilehorn, or strike down the harlot Naome or this Risingheart fellow," suggested Oberon.

Kelvan shook his head,"No. Things are not what they seem here. The chant says that the fiery pits are about to be plunged into a civil war, an uncommon event that shakes up the hellish hierarchies, and I've heard that Lady Naome is desperately seeking to regain favor with …the lord of the fourth. When the war finally erupts, Reyzenhart's dark lord and hers would certainly be at odds. I sense the hunter shall soon be the hunted, for what better chance would she have to redeem herself than to destroy or capture the Lord of Stygia's champion? I foresee that Vilehorn will be relatively unscathed from the upcoming battle, making our chances of taking him on afterwards negligible. "

Oberon shook his head. "Madness. I can see devils fighting each other when there is no foe around, but falling on one's own faction when their most hated enemy is right there is insane. If she were to betray this Reyzenhart fellow now, that would effectively cripple their operations in the Field of Nettles. They would lose all their gains and even their predominant hold on this contested battleground, over simple political jockeying?"

Kelvan shrugged his shoulders. "As soon as civil war occurs, they would forfeit their grip here regardless. Even the highly trained Baator legions cannot hope to hold their ground when the bulk of the war supplies and reinforcements are redirected to domestic disputes."

Amirah quickly tired of the two's political debate. "Nobody cares about Belial or Geryon," she declared, unafraid of either dark power eavesdropping on her words. " Our task has always been to hunt down Vilehorn the Corruptor. Now that we have him in the open, what are we going to do ?"

Oberon seemed shocked at her outburst in a similar manner he would take if a servant had spoken out of turn. Kelvan however grinned and nodded to his prize scout and warrior,"Why my dear, what we originally plan to do. We storm Ribcracker chasm."


	3. Chapter 3

Reyzenhart watched as his missile troops fought hand to hand with the surging demon horde. Their supposedly unassailable perches were marked out with hidden paths , ladders and even the occasional prepared magical portal, and the demons were scaling them in pursuit of their prey. Allisonara's dark winged Erinyes archers and the imp like Spinagon skirmishers were hard pressed to fight such a close range battle, but fortunately Reyzenhart had placed his Orthons amongst their ranks. The large maggot filled fiendish ogres were as adept with their repeating crossbows as they were with their pikes and there was the added bonus that the enemy would be covered with an explosion of biting worms if they somehow took one down.

Further up the chasm, Reyzenhart watched Yamon and his nightmare mounted Narzugons charge the demons. Yamon's units were supposed to hold back and let the archers thin their ranks with withering fire. They were only supposed to attack after the demons' morale broke and were to charge and hunt down any units that fled the chasm. For some reason however, the order to charge was given, and Reyzenhart watched in dismay as his dark cavalry charged their massed foe. For a second , the rash act looked to be successful as the dark knights readied to trampled their opponents, but at the last moment snares ,pits, and magical barriers blunted the force of the charge and sent the deadly Narzugons tripping or crashing into the ground. To their credit though, some of the Narzugons spotted the obstacles and directed their mounts to leap over them and into the surprised demons on the other side. They fought well, but were hopelessly outnumbered by their opponents and were hacked to pieces despite their daring.

Garthraxus however seemed to fare better. His phalanxes of Bearded Devils marched down the chasm to support Yamon, but were met by the awaiting horde. Despite being heavily outnumbered, Baatorian discipline held as their glaives and pikes skewered and hacked the charging demons mercilessly.

As Reyzenhart watched the proceedings he knew they had been betrayed, but by whom? Obviously the traitor was from within his ranks, most likely one of his officers. He doubt it was Allisonara, despite her teasing and often sharp comments, the dark angel had been one of his oldest and staunches allies. If she wanted to betray him, there were plenty of more opportune times for the deadly Erinyes. He wasn't particularly fond of her, but he did respect her and that was about the closest thing to friendship that a devil like him could have.

If Allisonara was ruled out , then Garthraxus was most likely not the culprit as well. The fierce leader of the Barbazu was her personal lap dog and practically her slave. He doubted that the brute could plan their demise without his mistresses' consent. The Gelgugon was slightly jealous of the close relationship those two shared, regardless of the source of their bond. Reyzenhart didn't know if she simply intimidated or blackmailed him into submission or if it was due to some magical enchantment, but in the end he guessed it didn't really matter.

Reyzenhart briefly considered Yamon as a candidate for this betrayal, since he was always eager and looking to promote up the ranks, but reconsidered as he watched the Narzugon commander pulled from his nightmare by a horde of dretches. The short bloated demons clawed and ripped apart the hell knight's armor even as Yamon hacked and slashed desperately around him. As the Narzugon lord met his inglorious doom, Reyzenhart thought that being torn apart by the enemy wouldn't help his aspirations to rise up the ranks.

"It's not me," quipped Ella nearby as she remained faithfully at his side. "I would never betray you."

Reyzenhart frowned as he realized he was probably talking out loud again. There were still several other commanders to scrutinize but he put them out of his head and patted her head to affirm her loyalty. As he brushed her dark hair , he couldn't help but notice it felt awkward and clumsy, but simply assumed it was because he was used to doing it as a giant insect and not a tiefling.

"Should I send a messanger to Lady Naome's forces? Her forces combined with ours could tip the balance in our favor," noted Ella as she squirmed from his touch.

Reyzenhart shook his head as his keen sight confirmed what he dreaded. "There's no need. Her troops already march against us," he sighed. "They'll likely close our avenue of retreat when they reach the chasm."

Ella stopped, stunned at the revelation. " She allies herself with Vilehorn? She means to cut off the legion's escape."

"So it seems. It appears our friendly fallen consort has decided to gain one leg up on the civil war before it even commences. "

"Shall I sound the retreat?"

"No, the battle hasn't been lost yet. The Thorn legion did not become the masters of the Field of Nettles just to be betrayed by a spurned whore from Baator. My original plan is still viable if we can sweep the enemy away from our archers," he mused as he assembled the remains of his command squad.

* * *

Reyzenhart's attack was both swift and brutal. The ice devil and his bodyguards recklessly charged down the sides of the chasm in support of the Spinagon archers, jumping and leaping down the cliff with wild abandon. While one of his guards misjudged his vault and was swept up by the winds and landed the pits knew where, the rest of his unit landed amidst the enemy to deadly effect. Reyzenhart chose to remain in his significantly weaker humanoid form, as to not attract attention, but that did little to stop his spear from impaling the skull of a particularly ugly black skeletal demon. With a quick yank he freed his weapon from the slain demon before it was dissolved in its acidic ichor, but found the rest of his unit were already making quick work of the surrounding demons.

Most of his bodyguard consisted of Osyluth or bone devils. Reyzenhart found those creatures difficult to relate to, despite sharing many insect like qualities and an affinity of ice magic with them, but there was no denying their effectiveness on the battlefield. The half skeletal humanoid half scorpion devils, stung and tore through the demon ranks, while brandishing their curved wishbone like weapons. Reyzenhart shook his head at the weird weapons, and wondered if they were meant only for show, or if they were some great secret joke that these creatures played on others. He had tried employing the harp shaped weapon before and ended up stabbing himself more than anything, but the Osyluths used them to great effect by snaring fleeing demons and then flinging them into the maelstrom above.

Ella was also at his side. The human was quite agile for her normally clumsy kind and managed to roll and tumble down the slope effortlessly even while sporting her huge back pack. She didn't participate directly with the fighting on the ledge, but Reyzenhart did spot her catching a lunging rubbery demon , and throwing him off the cliff in a simple fluid motion. He wasn't sure how she did it, since she wasn't that strong physically, but Ella did explain once to him it was simply a matter of turning her opponent's momentum against him. Regardless of her competency in combat, Reyzenhart preferred to keep her out of the main battle, at least till the proper opportunity presented itself.

After the demons were swept from their side of the chasm walls, the small Spinagons resumed their missile attacks on the milling demons below. The spiky imp like creatures, would pull thorns off their body and threw them expertly at their foes before the ripped spikes exploded into flames. There was little hesitation in their actions for fear of another decimation order like the one given before. Fighting against demons was one thing for a least devil, but incurring the wrath of a superior was another. Death was infinitely more preferably than the legendary torments that the pits of Baator could offer.

"Where's Targen?" demanded Reyzenhart.

None of the Spinagons had an answer but several of them turned their attention to the largest of their brethren. Reyzenhart in turn, cast his gaze upon him. Even in this relatively benign form, the ice devil's cold insect eyes seemed to pierce through him.

"He dead or he fled. I don't know," pleaded the targeted devil fearful of another decimation order.

Reyzenhart sighed, as he finally guessed the identity of his traitor. Targen had perfect opportunity to send false messages to Yamon, and it was his job to scout for ambushes before they began their assault. He guessed the little betrayer had also known that a civil war was looming and he had thrown his lot with Naome.

Reyzenhart frowned as he considered his options and surveyed the battleground. Garthraxus's wall of spears still kept at the enemy at bay but even from this distance he could see they were slowly being pushed back. It would only be a matter of time before the demons' superior numbers would overwhelm them from the front or the quickly approaching forces of Naome would strike them from their poorly defended rear. Kelgor's menagerie of hounds would keep her occupied shortly, but his beasts were meant mainly for skirmishing or to crack enemy lines, not for prolonged heavy combat. Reyzenhart spotted Allisonara through the windy chasm, and saw her position was rapidly eroding. He saw her fire an arrow into the eye of a twelve foot tall goat like demon, while kicking another back down the cliffs with her shapely legs. It was a valiant effort but he guessed she would be overwhelmed soon as well. Reyzenhart wanted to help her, but the Spinagons could not provide supportive fire with their spikes, and she was too far away for her command unit to intervene.

"I'm sure you only want to help her to retain her services," interrupted Ella with a cough.

"Yes of course, "stammered Reyzenhart as he realized he was thinking aloud again. The shifted ice devil knew no bounds of friendship and would gladly sacrifice his minions if he had to, or so he told himself.

Ella nodded barely hiding a grin.

Reyzenhart scowled and ignored the human. He scanned the demons and looked for a way out. Even with the Spinagons and the few surviving Orthons raining thorns and bolts down on the enemy, his army would still be routed, and his friends…err minions would be slain. He still had his ace in the hole with Ella, but it was too hard to deploy her in this position. The altitude and the winds mighty completely negate her attack. He needed Allisonara and her Erinyes to resume their deadly fire, but he was unable to relieve their position. He couldn't go around since it would take too long, he couldn't fly because of the winds, and he certainly couldn't teleport due to the magic of the Gray wastes, but maybe there was another way.

Reyzenhart wanted to lead the charge through the main demon horde in his true insect devil form, but his bodyguards and Ella warned him against it. They claimed he would be targeted first, and best to keep his true form in reserve till they needed it. Reyzenhart reluctantly agreed, partially because they were correct, but mainly because he was still an effective sorcerer without his physical gifts. While all Ice devils had a devastating aptitude for ice magic, Reyzenhart was especially gifted in the arcane and mastered additional spells as well. The ability to alter his form into a humanoid was the least of his skills as he was able to encase himself in spectral armor, force tentacles to erupt from the ground , and even throw lightning if he wished. He had the chance to master fire magic, but shied away from it because it seemed wrong based on his racial heritage.

With his form decided, Reyzenhart, his body guards, Ella , and the remaining Orthons charged the demonic center with the Spinagons covering their advance. At face value, he figured there was little chance that this attack would actually work. At best it would draw troops away from Garthraxus and Allisonara, giving them a chance to regroup and perhaps win the battle. At worse, his followers and himself would be ruthlessly hacked to pieces before they reached the bottom of the chasm.

To his relief, the Spinagons' volleys were fired to deadly effect; breaking up enemy ranks before the elite Bone devils and Orthons smashed into them. For a few minutes, the pride of the Thorn Legion ripped and crushed the smaller dretches, manes, and rutterkin before them. Even though Reyzenhart was in his humanoid tiefling form, he supported his troops effectively by hasting their movements and bolstering their strength.

The enemy wasn't lax though, and soon brought their own elite troops into the fray; cruel Babau, half skeletal demons that dripped acid off their bones, deadly Chasm, giant fly creatures that droned a mesmerizing hum against their enemies, and even mighty Vrocks, true vulture demons that filled the air with grasping spores even as they tore apart their foes with razor sharp beaks and claws. Reyzenhart wasn't too concerned about them under normal circumstances, he would pit Baator's finest against the Abyss's best any day, but today was different. Not only were they seriously outnumbered, but they were effectively surrounded after their suicidal charge. It didn't take long for Reyzenhart's charge to be blunted even as his route of escape was cut off.

"The great Commander Iceheart, taking the form of a human? How pathetic! " laughed a distinct booming voice that seemed to stop the battle momentarily around them.

"For one thing, you can call me Reyzenhart, and this is actually a tiefling's body," responded Reyzenhart undeterred by the menace that approached. He pointed to the small horns adorning his forehead to emphasize his point.

Vilehorn pushed or crushed underfoot the demons blocking his way. He radiated a choking presence of power even as he spread his great bat like wings and raised his blade of lightning and whip of flames. He was a Balor, an elder demon of fire and smoke. Lords of the Abyss, save for the demon princes themselves. Some called his kind power incarnate but Reyzenhart knew that wasn't true. They could be beaten, they could be killed he told himself.

"I promised Naome that you would be dragged in chains to the court of Belial in Phlegethos but I think your head on a platter should suffice," grinned the great fire demon.

"I shudder to think what that traitorous harpy has promised to secure your aid. The Field of Nettles? Doubtful, there are other Baatorian commanders here other than ourselves, they would fight tooth and nail to preserve our tactical advantage here. Gold, jewels, larvae….astral diamonds? I would like to think that the mighty Vilehorn would have more than enough after an eternity of pillaging. Or perhaps she offered you herself? Oh please don't tell me she offered you a taste of her questionable forbidden delights. Belial wasn't the only one that used her you know. He liked to offer her to his diplomatic guests. I figure she's been around the Great Wheel, one lay at a time," taunted Reyzenhart. He knew Vilehorn would probably fly into a rage soon, but not before a withering retort. The longer he could keep the Balor talking, the longer he didn't have to face him directly in battle.

Vilehorn chuckled," The arrangement between Naome and myself is none of your business, but I find your interest in my relationships laughable. You are nothing but an overgrown insect that cower under your masters' wishes. I detest devils, but I hold a special contempt for your kind. You snow bugs know nothing of passion, you know nothing of lust, you know nothing of holding a beautiful woman in your arms, and breaking her will and body with your passion."

Reyzenhart found himself more offended at the remarks than he should be, especially at being called a snow bug, and tipped his head in acknowledgement to Vilehorn. Very few creatures could anger him as the Balor just did.

The Balor roared with laughter. He raised his blade of lightning just as Reyzenhart readied his spear of ice. Before he slashed downwards he stopped and sniffed the air suddenly. "Wait…is that a human I smell? It is! " he declared as his eyes narrowed on Ella. To her credit, she didn't fall to the ground quivering, or run screaming for her life. She simply met his gaze, challenging him to strike, countering his fear with a subtle aura of bravery.

"What spirit this one has! " declared Vilehorn. "I might have misjudged you Reyzenhart. Perhaps you do know something of lust. Why else would you keep such a willful human slave at your side, than to slake your foul snow bug desires on her? "

Reyzenhart shook his head even as he gave a slight hand gesture to Ella. "Actually she isn't a slave, and she's definitely not my paramour. She's more of a business associate, since our relationship is purely professional….."

As the Ice devil began to explain, the demons on the far side of the chasm began to roar and scream in pain and confusion. While the combatants around Reyzenhart and Vilehart had temporarily ceased fighting, the rest of the battlefield was still locked in deadly combat. To his surprise, Reyzenhart saw that Allisonara and her archers had somehow retaken their ledge, and were raining arrows down upon the tightly packed demon horde. Even with their inability to fly and their depleted numbers, the Erinyes archers cut a swathe through the demon ranks. Even more surprising was what was taking advantage of the confusion that the arrows had created. A band of roughly fifty celestial elven spirits, Eladrin, were leading the charge against the demons, and they appeared to be headed directly towards them.

"Hah!" laughed Vilehorn at the approaching elves. " Their little charge is even more pathetic than yours Iceheart. I spend centuries trying to corner my elusive enemies, but here they are , two of them charging the bulk of my forces on the same day."

"Ahem….Before you turn your attention to those late comers, I was about to explain my relationship with Ella here," interrupted Reyzenhart. "While most people assume she is my slave, she really isn't. She's a hunter of demons actually, a paladin specifically if that could be believed, and though most of her profession hunt my kind as much as yours, Ella here has a special hatred for the denizens of the Abyss. So much that she has actually allied with me to better slay your kind. I'm not sure about the moral and alignment deviations she has committed, or if she's even considered a paladin anymore, but she does provide a useful service for me. While a paladin is quite a handy combatant, her skill at arms is a drop in the bucket compared to the full might of my Legion. However, there's something that she can do that none of my soldiers can."

With that Reyzenhart signalled for his remaining bodyguard to close around him as a dome of ice began surrounding them. Some of them were cut down by the now enraged demons as they sensed that the temporary truce was broken, but that didn't seem to deter Reyzenhart at all.

"That puny wall of ice will not stop my fire! " shouted Vilehorn as he returned to his battle stance.

"Oh I'm sure it won't. As I was saying, Ella here, fallen or not, has a special skill amongst the combatants of the Bloodwar. You see, she can handle holy water," replied Reyzenhart smugly before he was fully encased in ice. As on cue, Ella hefted her heavy pack overhead, before it exploded into a beautiful celestial shower.


	4. Chapter 4

Amirah Froststorm followed Kelvan's lead as they tore through the demons. The Ghaele lord was in his ball of light form, and blazed a burning path through the fiends. Oberon remained in his elven form, and slashed wildly with his mystical flaming blade. Demons fell around him as the empowered weapon easily cut through hardened demonic flesh. Amirah was close behind as a zephyr, effortlessly knocking demons off from the cliffs, or battering them relentlessly with her gale like winds. Nothing in their path could stop her, she was the wind, she was speed, she was the hurricane.

They had initially assaulted the nearest ledge, killing the Tanarri and freeing the Baatorian archers to resume their fire against their common demonic foe. While the denizens of the pit held the Eladrin with as much contempt as they held the hordes of the Abyss, Amirah hoped the old saying ' the enemy of my enemy is my friend' applied when dealing with Vilehorn's army.

She recognized one of the archers they rescued as her old rival, Darkwing, the Erinyes Allisonara. While they were officially enemies, there was some mutual respect the pair of them shared, and she assumed she was required to shift into her humanoid form to parlay a temporary truce. That wasn't need thought as Kelvan appeared to have previous dealings with her as well. The pair came to a quick understanding before the Ghaele elite continued his charge directly towards the towering Vilehorn, surrounded by his monstrous horde. Amirah briefly thought that the fallen angel would shoot them with equal relish as she would shoot demons, but fortunately her word was true.

Amirah followed her leader without question, even though she recognized how dangerous his tactic was. They numbered roughly fifty, a mix of Eladrin, assimar , and half celestial elves , and against them were nearly two thousand demons. While there were some exceptional individuals amongst them that were a match for all but the greatest of demons, Kelvan , Oberon , and herself, but the bulk of the warband were nothing more than mortals with a hint of divine blood in them. Not that she questioned their bravery, but their force was more suited to skirmishing than all out assaults. Regardless of her reservations, she followed Kelvan into battle, eager to finally avenge Vaeros's for the crimes and atrocities that Vilehorn had committed against the defeated hero.

To her surprise, the fury of their attack, combined with Allisonara's support fire scattered the demons before them. That and the fact that Vilehorn seemed to be preoccupied with some sort of internal dispute made their advance seem more likely. Amirah lost herself in her dervish fury as she slammed her winds mercilessly against her foes. She favored attacking the larger more powerful demons, or the ones that looked like spell casters to give her assimar and half celestial brethren some breathing room. Even though the ranks of the enemy grew thicker as they neared the target, the Warband pushed forward relentlessly.

"Amirah! Kelvan ! Listen to me, " interrupted the small courre Fiawa, as Amirah pummelled a toad like demon into the ground with her winds, breaking his back in the process. The creature clawed at her wildly, managing to connect with her smoke like body once. Amirah felt her body jolt in pain, but she ignored the deep wound and slammed her foe fatally in the forehead. The dying creature attempted to release a foul miasma against her, but she simply laughed as her winds redirected the stench into a pack of dog headed demons nearby. While demons were known to be immune to poison, the toad demon's foul odor was too much for his targets, and they immediately fell to the ground retching. Their nausea did not last long though, as three of her assimar allies swiftly cut down the reeling demons.

"What is it Fiawa?" asked Amirah, her words sounded like thunder in her wind form. She attempted to mask the annoyance in her voice, since Fiawa was like a little sister to her, but in her wind form and while in battle, that was hardly possible.

"Oberon and some of his retinue have fled the field!" cried Fiawa.

Amirah paused and scanned the battlefield. In her rage, she had lost track of the Tulani lord, and saw that little Fiawa was right. While Kelvan's plan was risky, Amirah knew that it could succeed if their entire band worked together. Though she loathed to admit it, losing the high born Oberon and the half dozen minor Eladrin that made up his retinue was a serious blow to their assault.

"Morwel curse that coward," screeched Amirah in a voice that sounded like lightning. Fiawa cowered from her wrath, but Amirah knew the tiny courre had more to fear than her raised voice.

The demons saw that the tide had shifted, and they renewed their efforts to repulse them. Vicious manes , small demons that looked like warped claw children, surged at them. A few of the slower assimar heroes were overwhelmed as the vicious little creatures dog piled on them, even as the larger and more terrible Tanarri closed off their escape.

Kelvan shifted into his elven form where the manes were thickest and performed a whirlwind like dance amongst them, scattering and slicing the mob of minor demons with ease. "Gather round ! " he then ordered, as the Ghaele lord attempted to reform his ranks.

Of all of them Amirah had the greatest chance to escape. She could fly through the maelstrom and seek vengeance on Oberon if she so chose, but she could not stand the thought of abandoning her friends, especially Kelvan. Upon reflecting on that thought, fighting to the death at the Ghaele's side was the only place she wanted to be.

"Stand firm! We'll get through this," shouted Kelvan, abandoning his goal of killing Vilehorn. After Oberon's retreat, killing the Balor was the least of their worries. Simply surviving was their new objective.

The demons hesitated at the gathered Eladrin warband, but only for a second before they rushed them blindly. Amirah prepared for the worse, but then the entire battlefield paused, as a giant explosion ripped through the heart of the horde.

Amirah was blown back slightly, even as Eladrin and demons alike were sent tumbling to the ground. Everything seemed to stop for a few seconds, including the maelstrom above as a light drizzle showered the center of the demonic horde. Horrible screams followed, as the deadly rain showered the battlefield, burning and melting the center of the chasm. Amirah expected the same to happen to her allies and herself, but was surprised to find that nothing of the sort occurred when the liquid drizzled upon them. At first she thought it was acid or some sort of diabolic brew from the alchemists of the Pit If anything but it was nothing of the sort, the rain washed away her despair, and seemed to renew her as it energized her spirit.

Fiawa stuck out her tongue comically to taste the liquid and grinned from ear to ear. "It's holy water. From the flavor , I guess it's from the rivers of Mount Celestia ! " she cheered.

Amirah was puzzled. She didn't know how it could rain holy water in the Gray wastes , since she saw no archons or angels in the fray. Even if they were here, conjuring a cloud of the blessed water was a power she hadn't ever heard of.

Kelvan however did not hesitate to react from the boon given them. "Our path is clear! Attack! " he shouted as he pointed towards the battered form of Vilehorn, slowly rising from the epicenter of the explosion.

* * *

Reyzenhart and his Osyluth and Orthon bodyguards crowded inside the icy dome. While the icy walls were opaque at best, the explosion and resultant shower of holy water could clearly be seen through them. After a few tense seconds the ice devil dropped his barrier, and leaped towards his foe, in his full unholy insect glory.

Over ten feet tall and covered with layers of white chitin plates, Reyzenhart clicked excitedly at his foe. Dark metal sheaths adorned his swaying tail as well as his claws and mandibles. His multifaceted eyes scanned the destruction that Ella had wrought and the Ice fiend was pleased.

His body guard rushed the remaining demons from the explosion, and hacked and chopped the survivors mercilessly. Though they were surrounded and outnumbered, the tide of battle was temporarily in their favor, and the Baatorian shock troopers made the most of the situation.

One of his eyes spotted Ella, who was curdled on the ground with her hands tucked in pain under her stomach. Reyzenhart guessed that the dragon powder used to trigger the explosion was probably too much for the protective gauntlets she wore, and wondered if her hands were literally blown off. A shame really , since the paladin had served him well. A part of him felt pity and even concrn for his loyal ally that had given him a chance at victory, but a darker part wondered if he would end their partnership due to the fact that she had out lived her usefulness, and simply throw her to Kelgor's hounds.

Another facet of his eyes saw that the initial explosion and the holy rain that it had brought had scattered the very center of the demonic horde. Many of the smaller demons were melted and dissolved, while the larger ones were horribly scarred and scathed by the holy liquid. Reyzenhart noted that those demons that survived had only suffered superficial damage, but more importantly it stunned and confused his foes. While most of the holy water was absorbed and diluted from the grey ground and vegetation , a lot of it puddled in pools of divine power, creating further barriers that disrupted the enemies' ranks which were slowly being shredded by exploding spikes from one chasm wall, and deadly arrows from the other.

Garthraxus's beleaguered phalanx's seized the disruption in the enemy ranks and threw back their foes. Instead of advancing though, they turned their attention to Naome's legions that had begun to engage Kelgor's hounds and beasts. While both sides employed roughly the same type of Barbazu spearmen at their forefront, the Thorn Legion's experience and Garthraxus's rage smashed the traitor companies like flinders.

Though many aspects of the battle had suddenly turned to his favor, Reyzenhart knew it was far from over. From the ashes of the explosion, tattered wings suddenly extended outwards, revealing the burned and scarred form of the Balor Vilehorn.

"Looks like that bitch Naome and her troops are useless. That will teach me for trusting a harlot,' snarled the fire demon. He then looked at the wet battlefield around him and snorted in humor as he saw some half melted mane bodies. "That's why I hate you devil bastards. Using a paladin and holy water is low, even for pit scum like your selves."

Reyzenhart gave his opponent a simple bow before dipping his spear into one of the pools of holy water. The stygian ice melted as it contacted the divine liquid, revealing a dark iron spear underneath. He then made a series of clicking noises as he empowered his spear with a telekinetic force, and kept it hovering a few feet above his head.

"An ice devil that is also a sorcerer? Interesting," commented the great demon as it began to march towards Reyzenhart; lightning blade in one hand, and fiery whip in the other. "My trophy room in my castle, has been filled with the skulls of countless enemies I have slain in my immortal life. For a creature unique as yourself however, I think I'll make room for one more."

Reyzenhart gave a final click as his spear rocketed towards the Balor. The great demon swatted at the weapon with his whip, entangling the shaft and redirecting it downwards as it slammed into the ground.

"Is that the best you can…OOFFF", cried Vilehorn as cold iron tipped claws and fangs ripped mercilessly into his stomach.

Reyzenhart's feint had worked. As he launched his weapon, the Ice devil fell on all fours and charged his distracted foe low to the ground. The Ice devil was more beast than humanoid at that point, his metal sheathed claws and mandibles snapped relentlessly into the Balor's crimson flesh, as his tail snaked around the demon's neck. While most weapons bounced harmlessly off the fire demon's hide, the blessed cold iron claws and fang blades provided to him, ripped through his supernatural defenses effortlessly, another point in Ella's favor if he had to decide to devour her or not. Though the blades' holy auras burned his chitinous hide, his insect like ability to ignore pain allowed him to use them without too much distraction. More importantly Reyzenhart's blessed mandibles allowed him to tear through the demon's hard abdomen muscles and tear great ropey strands of his innards out.

Reyzenhart's horrific attack would not fell Vilehorn though. The Balor was power incarnate, an avatar of pure evil that few could challenge, regardless of their power. One of Vilehorn's hands grabbed Reyzenhart's top back plates and tore it off his back, while the other seized his neck and yanked the insect like creature off of him. Reyzenhart sank his mandibles and claws desperately into the demon's flesh, ripping further chunks off of them, but Vilehorn was undeterred from his task. The great beast hefted his foe high above him with one great clawed hand, even as the Ice devil thrashed helplessly in his grasp.

"Keeping your skull won't do my victory justice. I think I'll stuff your entire body and display you in my hall, " he laughed as he slammed Reyzenhart mercilessly into the ground.

The entire battlefield shook from the force of the impact. Reyzenhart half expected his back to be broken, but fortunately it was only his arm since his foe slammed him into the ground at an odd angle. Regardless if he survived the attack or not, Vilehorn swung his blade of lightning towards his neck, seeking to both slay him and claim his trophy as he boasted.

Reyzenhart had only a split second. He was too injured to move and too weak to block the blade. He had one option though, and quickly invoked a hastened version of the shape altering spell he sometimes used. It seemed an extravagance to invest so much of his magic to cast a simple disguise spell quickly, but Reyzenhart found it useful on espionage missions. Today however, as his body was transformed from that of a giant insect demon, to a small broken tiefling, it saved his life as the blade whistled past his shrunken body.

Vilehorn paused as his blade struck the grey ground and blinked at his now much smaller opponent. "Is this the best you can do? Is this the best parlour trick your magical arsenal has in store? You transform yourself to a tiefling worm to fight me? " he laughed.

Reyzenhart had no answer. The nature of the battlefield made it impossible to escape, and he was too weak to fight the Balor directly. He knew he was doomed and quietly awaited his fate like a true soldier of Baator. While he hoped to meet his end with stoic courage, he was surprised at how empty, hollow , and curiously lonely he felt.

Suddenly , clear ringing voices filled the air. Reyzenhart had expected the Balor's lightning sword to strike him down but was surprised to see dozens of Eladrins and Assimar swarming his foe.

* * *

Kelvan led the charge, as the Ghaele lord skipped, spun, and danced through the chasm. The Eladrin hero slashed Vilehorn once across the back with his golden blade before slipping from the monster's counter swing. Before the Balor could react, Kelvan seemingly vanished and reappeared behind him as he stabbed downward into the beast's thick neck.

Amirah followed her lord's attack, and focused all her power into a gale like wind into the monster's stomach. With all her might she slammed into the Balor's visibly torn midsection, but it did not budge the monster. She split herself temporarily and reformed on the other side, even as her Assimar and half celestial allies rushed the monster with more traditional blade and spear. She expected some of their attacks to penetrate the monster's hide but to her dismay no one except Kelvan seemed to have any effect on it. While most of them had blessed weapons, she knew it took a special combination of holy wards and cold iron to be able to damage a Balor in melee.

Amirah had mastery over lightning but knew that demons were immune to that particular element. She realized that she could not affect the demon in her current form so she shifted into her celestial elven form to do battle with him. Though she always felt weaker and more constrained as a humanoid, she did have use of her holy scimitar, a weapon blessed by Queen Morwel herself on the slopes of Arborea during its forging.

The great Balor slashed at Kelvan but the Eladrin lord was much too quick and nimble. In frustration Vilehorn ignored his speedy opponent and turned its anger to his smaller attackers as he slashed and cleaved through the hosts of Assimar and Half celestials in his fury. Amirah counted a half dozen of her companions slain even as Kelvan continued his deadly saber dance around the monster. The Balor suffered many deep blade wounds from him that added to the horrific bite and claw marks it had already suffered, but it didn't seem too concern with the Ghaele duelist. It instead relished the opportunity to break and smash his smaller foes as it expertly decapitated a few more. Amirah joined the fray, and thankfully scored a deep wound to its thigh, but the demon simply kicked at her reflexively.

While missing most of her speed in her humanoid form, Amirah still retained enough of her agility and quickness to hop back from the blow. The demon took notice of her movements though and focused his attention on her. Amirah found herself briefly paralyzed with fright as the full fury of the demon seemed to focus on her and was almost forced to her knees as it raised its lightning blade to strike her. She tried to leap out of the way or transform back into wind, but the monster's presence choked the will from her.

"Amirah! Flee!" shouted Kelvan as he bounded to intercept the demon. "I'm the only one that can stand up to him….", began the Eladrin lord but was literally cut short in his statement.

Amirah broke out of the trance the Balor had put her in but her heart dropped when she saw what happened. Kelvan's torso was wrapped by the lightning blade , before the demon severed it completely in an angry jerk. The fair elven lord fell wordlessly in two halves onto the Grey Wastes. The fire demon had paralyzed her just to draw Kelvan closer to his blade. While the Ghaele was too quick for him in a regular fight, the Balor used her as bait to slay her beloved leader.

Amirah's mind snapped. Hatred against the fiend Vilehorn, anger for the coward Oberon, pity for the heroic Kelvan, and disgust at the weakling Amirah filled her. While most of her companions scattered or fled, the wind spirit glared at the great demon with menace in her eyes. Though she knew that without her lord, the remains of her warband were no match for the fire demon, she screamed in rage as she charged him anyways.

Vilehorn laughed derisively at her attacks, as he swept his blade at her. She attempted to parry the weapon and met his lightning blade with her holy steel, but the brute's power was too great. Her weapon shattered in a shower of electricity and shards. The minor explosion caused by her sundered weapon threw her unceremoniously backwards with tremendous force.

Amirah felt the end approach as she hurtled towards the hard rocks of the Grey Waste. In the split second before her weak humanoid body broke against the hard stones of the Grey Wastes, she felt empty, hollow , and curiously lonely. The only person in the world that she felt she could love had just been decapitated by her ancient foe, and she was powerless to seek vengeance upon it.

Amirah expected a painful death as her body shattered against the ground, but to her surprise a battered tiefling in a tattered blue and white robe had cushioned her fall and caught her in the last second. What was more remarkable was that he did it at great expense to himself as he grunted and stumbled backwards from the catch. She guessed he would have been bowled over completely if she wasn't so light, as she noticed the man also appeared to have a broken arm.

While she respected the celestial blooded assimar, mortals with a trace of celestial divinity in their blood, she had no love for tieflings, their counterparts with questionable fiendish roots. This tiefling however was different. Instead of his race's typical behavior of cowering and slinking, the man's eyes blazed with an angry determination at the Balor. He was going to kill Vilehorn, or at the very least die trying.

* * *

Reyzenhart didn't know why he caught the stupid Assimar woman. The only chance that the Eladrin warband had died, when the Ghaele spirit was cut in half, but still this woman kept fighting blindly. Maybe it was the fact that their sacrifice spared his life to give him another shot at Vilehorn, or maybe it was the overwhelming hollow feeling he felt as the vorpal sword snaked towards his head earlier, or perhaps he felt the need to catch her and devour her flesh to regain his strength, whatever the reason he knew that he couldn't let this celestial blooded mortal smash against the rocks. Instead of biting into her though, he simply lowered her gently to the ground, a difficult task with only one arm, and shuffled off to face the Balor once again. "Stay here, " he ordered the stunned woman as he marched towards his fate.

Reyzenhart spotted the spear he had used as a diversion earlier and summoned the last of his telekinetic power to rip it from the ground and into his remaining good arm. His innate regeneration would heal his arm eventually, but not soon enough before the battle was over, so Reyzenhart simply buried the back of the haft into his armpit to support it.

He saw that Vilehorn was happily chasing down the remaining Eladrin and his Orthon and Osyluth allies, and thought it best to remain in his humanoid form to avoid detection. He had already proved that he was no match for the Balor in a frontal assault, but perhaps a spear to the back would succeed where direct confrontation had failed.

Amirah was stunned. Not only had she just been saved by a tiefling of all things, but the lowly creature had the gall to order her to "Stay here" as if she was a common Assimar or something.

She wanted to strike him down, but there was something different about him. A determination in his voice that stayed her hand. There was something about his gait and the way he carried himself, that reminded her of the recently fallen Kelvan and she refrained from unleashing her lightning on him , even as he turned his back to her and shuffled forwards towards Vilehorn. She guessed he was a simple foot soldier of the Thorn Legion, indoctrinated by his infernal masters to never back down, but there was still a noble aura about him as he marched off to do battle once again.

She watched the robed footsoldier stumble towards a spear embedded on the ground, and saw him struggle to retrieve it with one hand. She thought about assisting him, but then a glint of gold caught her eye.

* * *

As Reyzenhart stalked towards his opponent, he sensed that the battle hinged on this exact moment. He was either going to kill Vilehorn, break the demon's morale, and watch the Thorn Legion sweep both the Tanarri horde and that backstabber Naome from the battlefield. Or…he was going to die a miserable death, the demons' ranks reform, and the Thorn Legion would be crushed between the horde of Tanarri and the spears of the Baator Rebels. When he laid out the paths of his destiny so simply, he chuckled as he realized how easy it was. All he to do was to kill a Balor with his spear in hand to hand combat. How hard could that be?

Reyzenhart chuckled as he drew closer, but found his mirth was tempered by an unusual thought. Regardless if he won or loss, he hoped that stupid assimar girl he rescued would make it out. As an Ice devil and the Commander of the Thorn Legion he can confidently say that he had killed countless foes, but it was a rare occurrence when he actually saved someone. It didn't give him a warm fuzzy feeling or something stupid like that, but he did feel a bit more complete and a bit more confident when he was about to face the great void once again. If he died, there was a good chance he would reform on his native plane of Stygia, one of the most frozen and inhospitable planes on the Great Wheel, but there was also a chance the Gray Wastes would absorb his spirit into its hard rocks. The prospect was unappealing to say the least, but the image of the stunned girls face as he lowered her to the ground seemed to comfort him as he neared the Balor.

Vilehorn had already dispatched most of his Eladrin attackers, and had turned himself to Reyzenhart's rapidly shrinking band of bodyguards. A particularly freakish bone devil, a three headed monstrosity by the name of Grxinhelx, was pinned to the ground by the Balor's great clawed feet. Instead of dispatching him quickly with his blade of lightning, the fire demon played with his prey. He reached down and plucked one of the bone devil's skeletal heads off as the other two wailed in pain.

Reyzenhart had a clear target and considered blasting his foe with a jet of intense cold, but stayed his hand when he remembered a Balor's powerful resistance to magic. The Ice devil drew a smile as he considered another attack. If he couldn't use magic on the monster directly than perhaps an oblique approach was needed. He would unleash a storm of ice around Vilehorn instead of upon him. The spell would hardly damage the monster at all, but it would blind him momentarily allowing Reyzenhart to strike. While Reyzenhart had no special power to see through the sleet choked winds, he was a Gelugon or Ice Devil after all. Striking an opponent in a snow storm would be no problem for him.

* * *

Amirah summoned her remaining strength as she sprinted to the side, despite the tiefling's orders. She had spotted Kelvan's golden scimitar and knew it was the one of the few things available to her that would allow her to hurt Vilehorn. She guessed she would only get once chance to strike him down, before the great demon turned its attention on her again but she knew she couldn't falter. She would not shirk away from a battle when a lowly tiefling strode towards it fearlessly.

With the Ghaele's weapon in hand she rushed the demon with all her speed. She had to do this fast. She had to be haste incarnate, she had to embody the fiercest winds, and personify the destruction of the hurricane.

With her mantra repeating in her mind, she saw a sudden storm of ice sleet engulfed the surprised Balor. It obscured everything in her path, but that did not deter Amirah. She was the northern winds given form after all, and her eyes easily narrowed in on her prey. If anything this distraction would only benefit her as she leaped towards her opponent's neck.

* * *

Reyzenhart charged the startled Balor as the winds he summoned engulfed him. His small tiefling form had evaded the fire demon's notice just long enough for him to slip into his range. He considered shifting back into his favored insect body to gain more power into his strike, but thought a lower angled attack might slip past his foes now furiously flapping and buffeting wings. His guess proved correct as he was able to dodge the monster's wings as they extended defensively in reaction to the storm, even as he drove his spear upwards with all his might. Though his body was much smaller than his natural form, it possessed a strength that rivaled that of the fierce Barbazu. The spear lanced upwards and pierced the red demonic flesh, as Vilehorn unleashed a deafening roar.

* * *

Amirah leaped at Vilehorn, but at the last moment the demon lowered its guard as it's back arched back in pain. The Wind Eladrin was confused at this development but slashed the creature none the less with all her skill and speed. The scimitar hummed in her hands as the weapon sliced into Vilehorn's throat. For a second Amirah half expected the weapon to bounce off harmlessly, like so many of her brethren's attacks, but instead the weapon carved open the monsters wind pipe with a splash of boiling black blood.

Vilehorn seemed to struggle at the wound. One hand reached towards his back while the other attempted to stifle his throat. Amirah landed lightly on the monster's shoulders, ignoring the maelstrom of sleet and ice, and plunged her blade downwards into the stunned monsters face as a tip of cold iron simultaneously burst through its chest simultaneously. The tiefling that rescued her earlier, was beneath her ancient enemy, valiantly driving his spear upwards into Vilehorn's chest. Amirah wasn't sure what was happening but knew what was going to happen next. Without hesitation she bounded downwards onto the hard ground, then tackled the tiefling backwards with all her might.

* * *

Waves of unholy fire erupted from the center of the chasm as the Balor named Vilehorn exploded in his death frenzy. A hundred demons and a few devils were tossed like rag dolls against the side of the chasm from the demonic conflagration.

While Reyzenhart would have preferred his minions to detonate the demon from a distance, he had fully expected to be consumed by his enemy's wrath when he committed himself to face him in hand to hand. As an Ice devil he was immune to fire despite the frigid elements that his particular species preferred, but the unholy nature of the Balor's flames was too much even for his fiendish resistances. However, instead of being shredded into ribbons from the explosion, the shifted Ice Devil was shocked to find the Assimar that he had caught earlier had knocked him to safety.

It was an impossible feat of course, the girl had somehow tackled him and carried him over a hundred feet in a heartbeat, but there was no denying the pair of them stood battered and beaten safely away from the blast radius. For a second, Reyzenhart thought maybe he had died, and the cruel nature of the Gray Wastes were playing tricks on his now deceased spirit.

"Am I dead?" he asked as he touched his body to confirm his existence.

"Oh..and am I an angel? I've heard that one before, " laughed the Assimar. Reyzenhart forced himself to smile briefly, but his rescuer suddenly began coughing up blood as her footing faltered.

The shifted Ice Devil caught her, even as she recovered her balance. As he held her, the pair locked gazes for a second as they both stared intently into each other's eyes. For a second Reyzenhart thought he would shift back into his giant insect form and bite her head off to refuel his strength, but thoughts of violence vanished as she leaned forwards and locked her lips around his.

The warm sensation was the most alien thing he had ever experienced. While he had toyed with what humanoids called flirting in the past, there was something about this Assimar's kiss that was different from anything he had every felt. Perhaps it was his recent brush with death, or the fact that this creature had saved his life, but for some reason Reyzenhart accepted her embrace and found himself eagerly returning it.

As the pair engaged in their unexpected kiss, the sounds of battle brought them back to the harsh realities of the infernal battlefield around them. Reyzenhart reluctantly broke off contact and gently pushed her back.

"The rest of the Thorn Legion will make short work of Naome's legion and the remaining demons. You should go now," he ordered. "You can probably scale the chasm walls the same will came down if you leave now. I'll keep them off your back."

The Assimar seemed flustered at what she had just done, but nodded at his suggestion. She seemed to hesitant to leave his side, but suddenly a small sprite like creature with rainbow wings appeared next to her," Amirah, your survived! We have to go now before either the devils or demons catch us! ",pleaded the small creature.

The Assimar sighed and picked up her golden scimitar. Reyzenhart could feel an almost physical wave of power from the weapon and wondered if she would attempt to slash him with it. They were immortal enemies after all. Instead the woman stabbed the weapon into what appeared to be the remains of Vilehorn's skull, a grisly trophy no doubt to show for the all the carnage around them. Before she left with her prize however she turned to Reyzenhart one more time, and the two exchanged their frozen gazes once again.

"May I know your name, noble tiefling?" she asked curtly.

Reyzenhart suppressed a grunt as he realized that the reason she didn't scream in panic was that she thought he was a lowly halfbreed tiefling. He guessed that if she knew his true form and identity, she would probably be gargling her mouth right now with the forgetful waters of the Styx. He considered shifting forms and snapping her terrified head off while screeching his name in all his hellish glory.

"Reinhardt," he said with a bow. Against his better judgement he decided to maintain his illusion, and provided her with the common tiefling pronunciation of his name.

Amirah looked around the battlefield and sighed. "My people thank you Reinhardt, but for your sake, I hope we never meet again," she said with a sad tone in her voice.

Reinhardt blinked once at the statement , and then she was gone. He thought she might have teleported, but knew that was impossible within the wastes. She also didn't turn invisible or some sort of minor illusion, since his keen eyes were enchanted to spot such cheap tricks. Before he began a more thorough search for her, a nearby moan caught his attention.

A battered and bleeding Ella was propped up against one of the hard rocks. She feebly raised her charred blackened hands and forced a smile on her haggard face. "Can I get some help here….Reinhardt…..or do I have to kiss you first? " she chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

"And so…my followers and I were abandoned by Kelvan Starbreeze, and we had to fight our way back to Arborea from the depths of the Gray Wastes," explained Oberon Starfarer to the Council of Eladrin elders. His followers looked downwards as their Tulani lord gave his version of the events that happened in Ribcracker chasm, not wanting to either add or contradict his story.

Fair Faerinaal, Queen Morwel's consort and representative in the Court of Stars considered his statement. "Brave Kelvan, fierce Amirah, even young Fiawa…all gone? None of your comrades survived? They all perished?" probed the blindingly beautiful Eladrin prince.

Oberon nodded. "Aye my lord, Kelvan's reckless actions would have doomed all of us if I hadn't intervened and guided whomever I could to safety. I tried to talk some wisdom into him, but he was blinded by the lure of victory. He marched his entire warband into the trap that the Tanarri laid, all for the foolish notion that he could actually defeat Vilehorn the Corruptor. "

Faerinaal looked at Oberon's companions but they remained silent. With a sigh, the Royal Consort bowed his head. "I bear your news with a heavy heart Oberon Starfarer. The Court of Stars is nothing without its members and we lost several of our brightest and bravest today. In Kelvan's absence I shall appoint you the new huntsman…" began the Eladrin lord but was interrupted from a loud murmur at the edge of the Court.

A collective gasp rose from the celestial elves, as Amirah Froststorm strode through the Court of Stars. Battered, bruised, but still possessing a noble aura about her.

"Thank Arborea you are safe. We heard grim tidings and I fear the worse about your fate," smiled Faerinaal to the warrior Bralanni. "We are also pleased you have taken your elven form. I have always found it a shame that you hide it behind your wind form," he added with a wink.

Amirah shot a withering gaze at Oberon but bowed in the proper fashion towards the Royal Consort. "I only heard the last part of my colleague's report, but I can assure you that noble Kelvan was neither foolish nor did he fall into the enemy's trap. If Kelvan was guilty of anything, it would have been he placed too much trust in certain individuals. "

A collective melodramatic gasp arose from the gathered Eladrins. They all knew where this was headed, but the Eladrin as a race loved their theatrics.

Oberon regained his composure and laughed. "Oh really? I assume from his absence and that of the others that they didn't make it out of the chasm. Also, judging by your disheveled appearance, I guess that you barely fled in time yourself. Do not insinuate to these fine nobles, that I ran from the field due to cowardice. I left because it was suicide and I would not throw my life away so recklessly. "

Amirah shook her head and then began reciting an ancient Eladrin oath. A few of the older Eladrin, and those that served in warbands stood up and lowered their heads in respect at her recital. "Do you not recall your oaths? How we would sacrifice our lives to defeat Vilehorn the Corruptor and the others that slew Vaeros the brave? Kelvan spotted our chance and risked all to take his shot at the Balor, and you left him when he needed you the most!"

"I left Kelvan? " cried Oberon with disdain. "No my dear Amirah. Kelvan left us when he abandoned reason and attempted to drag us all down with him. I argued in private with him to seek reinforcements before confronting Vilehorn, but his obsession with vengeance was too overwhelming. It is said that if one hunted too long in the lower planes, a darkness festers in one's heart. Everyone knows the length of time Kelvan spent in the Abyss , Carceri, and the Gray Wastes, and it wouldn't surprise me if his judgement had been clouded. I would also point out that you, Amirah has also spent a considerable time there, and from my own personal experience, I've found you've grown bitter and cold. If I am guilty of anything, it is I wasn't able to sway more of comrades away from Kelvan's madness."

The Eladrin nobles gasped collectively again, clearly enjoying the drama that was playing out. They recalled rumors that Oberon was especially enamored with Amirah at one point, and that was the reason he joined Kelvan's warband. The fact that Amirah herself was attracted to Kelvan , while Kelvan was oblivious to anything but the hunt, made this spectacle more the entertaining for the flighty celestial elves.

Amirah on the other hand was not amused. She hated the little dramas that played out in court, and wanted as little to do with them as possible. She stood up straight and addressed Faerinall directly. "The fact of the matter is, that Oberon was supposed to support our flanks during our assault on Vilehorn's horde while it was locked in battle with a Baatorian Legion. During the height of battle when we needed him the most, Oberon fled wordlessly, abandoning us in a dire situation. Almost everyone died except… " she stated, her voice beginning to crack.

"Her statement just proves my point. Kelvan's attack was suicidal, if we did not leave when we did , all of us would have died. It wouldn't surprise me if Amirah here fled herself and is just pointing fingers at my followers and myself to ease her guilty conscience. "

Amirah paused and turned to Oberon. "Retract that statement or taste my blade," she warned.

While the Tulani caste were amongst the most powerful of all the Eladrin, everyone knew of Amirah's fierce warrior reputation. Oberon wanted to defeat Amirah in a political forum, and did not wish to cross blades with her. So he simply bowed and conceded this point, " I am sorry, the heat of the moment clouded my choice of words," he said with a smile that was far from sincere.

Amirah turned back to Faerinall and continued her statement. " Everyone died in our assault except young Fiawa and myself, but they did not die in vain." She then waved to the edge of the court, and the young sprite sized Courre Eladrin flew forwards while dragging a magically levitating platter.

The collected Eladrin nobles jockeyed for position to see what was on the platter, and they collective gasped when they saw the items on it. Kelvan's golden scimitar, and the twisted severed head of what could only be the Balor Vilehorn.

Faerinall looked at the head and nodded. He was there the day Vaeros died , and he instantly recognized one of his slayers.

Oberon started to stutter as he attempted to defend himself, but was drowned out by a chorus of boos and hisses by the gathered Eladrin. Sensing defeat he did what he was accused of, he backed away, before fleeing the court with his followers in tow. While cowardice was not a crime amongst the Eladrin, his social standing and reputation had been permanently marred by Amirah's statement and evidence. Regardless if he was a member of the Tulani caste, he would be forever shunned and cursed by his peers.

Faerinall seemed satisfied at the turn of events and turned his attentions towards the fair Amirah. "The Court of Stars thank you and your comrades for your service and sadly your sacrifice. While there is a chance that the Abyss will spit out one so foul as Vilehorn again, it will not be for hundreds of years, and he will be greatly weakened in the process. If you so desire , I will grant you Kelvan's title of huntsman , and his commission to lead a warband into the lower planes. I think he would have desired that."

Amirah bowed. "Thank you my lord. It is my desire to continue my hunt, to honor my fallen lord and to bring the demons to justice." Though the commission and royal recognition was nice, Amirah knew she would have continued her hunts with or without their blessing. This boon however, just made things easier.

Faerinall smiled. "Also, I offer you a sliver of the essence of Arborea."

The crowded gasped again but this time in real surprise. The essence of Arborea could literally raise an Eladrin from one caste to another overnight. It was a rare gift that was only given to the greatest of heroes.

Amirah bowed but shook her head. "I thank you graciously for the offer, but I must decline. I cannot change castes since I am the storm and the winds shall always be at my command. However, do not forget that I wasn't the only survivor that day. Young Fiawa's scouting was invaluable and greatly aided our cause."

Fiawa was shocked at her friend's statement but managed to nod in acceptance.

Faerinall frowned but relented to her offer. "So be it," he declared. A beam of light shot from his hand towards Fiawa. The small courre vanished into a cloud of motes before reforming into a much larger and more beautiful version of her former self. Amirah could still recognize her friend's face, but noted she had a more mature and developed upper torso. Also, her rainbow wings were gone, replaced by larger feathery ones and her legs had been transformed into that of a magnificent serpent's.

"I'm…I'm a Lillend! " cheered Fiawa as she swirled gracefully around to show off her transformation. Besides her obvious physical changes, her voice became richer and more melodic as well, true traits of the artistically blessed Lillend.

Amirah smiled at her friend as she turned back to Faerinall.

"This Council is now adjourned. However, I would like to consult with you further Amirah. Perhaps this evening, at my mansion, over dinner. I need you to fill in the gaps of the events that occurred," he said with an enticing smile.

Amirah saw through his crude flirting. "Perhaps another time my lord," she had much to do to reform Kelvan's warband. While it was a great honor to catch the Royal Consort's eye, she had no time for romance. All she had was her duty and a feeling of sadness over Kelvan's passing. She was speed, she was the wind, she was the hurricane,... she was definitely not happy.

After she repeated her mantra however, Amirah paused and touched her lips. Just as quickly as she recalled the brief kissed she shared with the fiendish soldier Reinhardt, she blotted the memory of her mind. A tiefling was the last thing she needed to occupy her memories.

* * *

Reyzenhart shifted uncomfortably. His great white plates clacking in disharmony as his mandibles clicked repeatedly. The kiss he shared with the Assimar preoccupied his mind, and he found it difficult to rid himself of it.

As the Ice Devil stalked in circles around his war tent, Allisonara strode in and brought his mind back to the situation at hand. "Commander Reinhart, the prisoner is ready for questioning," she said with a slight chuckle.

Reyzenhart shot her a cold stare. It had become a private joke amongst the Thorn Legion. Reinhardt was the name he had given himself when Amirah the Assimar had asked. He thought only Ella heard him say it, and thought the human would keep it to herself. Sadly, from the snickers he got marching through inspections, Ella had more friends amongst the Legion than he thought.

Reyzenhart clicked angrily at the dark winged Erinyes Captain, and she bowed with a smile. Soon afterwards, the bearded devil Garthraxus entered with the traitor Naome in tow. She was a magnificent creature, a tall and curvy humanoid with metallic golden skin and long midnight hair. Long goat horns, painted cloven feet and a short flicking tail that ended with a heart marked her a fiend however. She had a pleasant scent as well, that of expensive and musky incense, and her entire body screamed forbidden and tantalizing lusts and desires.

Naome attempted to bow, but the stocks around her neck and hands hampered her movements.

"I'll leave her to your attentions. Please try not to kiss her into submission or anything . Ok Reinhardt?" laughed Garthraxus as he fled the tent.

Reyzenhart fumed at the insubordination, it was bad enough when quick witted Allisonara did it, but dull headed Garthraxus as well? He let his anger slip and focused on his prisoner instead. Clicking and snapping his mandibles at her, he began his interrogation.

"Lord Reyzenhart please, you are speaking too fast. My Gelugon speech is not what it used to be," she humbly pleaded as she hunched over from the heavy stocks.

Reyzenhart released a short puff of air and waved his claws. The large insect devil suddenly shrank into the form of a well groomed white skinned tiefling wearing blue and white robes. "Is this better?" he asked while stroking his perfectly trimmed dark blue goatee.

"Much," smiled Naome. Even though she had a haggard appearance about her, and whip marks on her back , the she devil still possessed an engaging smile. "If it wouldn't trouble my lord, could you please remove the stocks as well."

Reyzenhart knew that despite her fair appearance, she was dangerous. He guessed she could easily overpower the half dozen Barbazu guards he had posted outside his tent, but that didn't intimidate him. He snapped his fingers and her stocks fell to the ground. If she attempted to fight him in an attempt to escape, he was fine with that. Reyzenhart was dangerous as well.

"Thank you again my lord," she said while stretching and rubbing her wrists and neck. Reyzenhart noticed that even when performing such simple motions she moved with the undulating grace of an exotic dancer. If he didn't have such a cold and alien mind, he guessed he might have been seduced by this enticing creature.

"I have several questions for you my lady. If you answer them honestly, than you will be treated fairly, otherwise you will find your stay with the Thorn Legion…not to your liking."

"Oh, that sounds both invigorating and interesting," she smiled as she began walking , no stalking, back and forth around the tent, seemingly to the beat of some primal music that Reyzenhart could not hear.

Reyzenhart ignored her antics and continued his interrogation. "Why were you banished from Belial's court?"

Naome pursed her lips to a pout. "My whore of a daughter,Fierna, has my lord Belial's ear. She forced me out so she could occupy his attentions in my place, no matter how base or depraved. Luckily I had enough connections to secure myself two companies of loyal devils for my exile. I took them to the Gray Wastes in an attempt to win back favor on the battlefield, but sadly as you can see, I am hardly a warrior or a leader," she sighed as she fluttered her long eyelashes at her captor.

Reyzenhart frowned at the overt attempt to flirt with him and even more at the implied incest. While breeding held no particular fascination for him besides spawning more troops, the thought of inbreeding did repulse him. After all, the whole purpose of mating was to produce stronger young to win future battles, while the results of inbreeding were often weaker and more importantly mentally unstable broods unfit for military service.

"I can understand attacking my Legion to advance your position in the upcoming ….conflicts, but how and why did you enlist Vilehorn's aid?"

"Ahh…Vilehorn. When I was younger I was the consort of an up and coming pitfiend general. He was crushed of course in the Bloodwar, and I was taken as a slave by Vilehorn. It took a while for my admirers back in the great Pit to ransom me back, but by that time I already had the balor's ear, heart, and manhood wrapped around my finger," she said as she slid closer to Reyzenhart. The shifted Gelugon noted that she was practically rubbing his robe with her behind at this point, and made slow licking motions with her tongue at him. He knew it was simply more of her crude methods in an attempt to seduce him, and he felt no emotion towards her. He calmly pushed her back and resumed his questioning.

" Who was your spy and traitor in the Thorn Legion." Reyzenhart had his own list of suspects and wanted to know if there were anymore. Highest on his list was Targen since the Spinagon leader disappeared during the start of the battle, but the spikey imp claimed the winds of the Field of Nettles carried him off. A common enough occurrence to those that first arrived in this nightmare battlefield, but one that shouldn't catch a veteran like him off guard.

"Allisonara the Erinyes," Naome confessed with a sad look on her face. " Do not blame her though, like all our race she seeks only to advance through the fiendish bureaucracy. She chafed at the thought that others less competent were being promoted since she was stuck under your command for so long."

Reyzenhart regarded her statement calmly. It was a lie of course. Allisonara was already in battle when Yamon was ordered to charge. He had known Allisonara for over a millennium, even before he became her commander, and she had turned down many field promotions in the past. She was an easy target to name though since Erinyes in general were legendary for their penchant to backstab their lovers and leaders, but Reyzenhart was neither to her. Though it was hard to believe, he considered her more as a friend than a subordinate.

"Is that all," asked Naome with wide eyes. Reyzenhart noted that they were golden like her skin, and he felt himself beginning to get dizzy staring into them.

"I assume you will use me as a bargaining chip after the war has begun. Or maybe, if you were a bit more ambitious, you would use me as a liaison to get into Belial's war camp. It's always good to be on the winning side you know. Though I have been cast from his court, he won't spurn me, especially if I have the infamous Thorn Legion and its powerful commander at my beck and call," she said as she continued to stare hypnotically into his eyes. Reyzenhart almost lost his footing, and in a split second moment of clarity, determined that she was attempting to charm him through her magic. Though she would have made an excellent hostage, the golden skin seductress left him with no choice.

"CHOMP"

Ella and his bearded devil guards raced into the room at the sound of the short scream. What they found was Reyzenhart in his full Ice Devil glory, and the headless form of Naome sprawled on the ground.

The great ice devil clicked angrily, even as he swallowed her severed head, and the Barbazu retreated at his command.

Ella however remained and began dragging the body to the side of the tent. "What is it with you and biting heads off," she said while shaking her head.

Reyzenhart gave the skull a final gulp before reverting back to his tiefling form. " Don't blame me, that was defensive binge eating. She found a way to overcome my tent's protective wards. She tried to put a glamor on me and forced me to bite her head off," he said while raising his open hands into the air.

Ella snorted at his excuse. She took off her cloak and placed it over the headless corpse. " Damn, no wonder mortal men are so easily seduced by you outsiders. How are normal women supposed to compete with that. I'm pretty sure most of the men in my village wouldn't even notice if she had a head or not, " she snickered while crossing her arms. Reyzenhart noted that the paladin's hands were sheathed in long black gloves.

"Err…how are your hands? That cask was meant to be thrown you know, not held over your head."

Ella shrugged. "I know, but I wanted to channel some divine power into it to make the holy water more potent. I thought it might be more effective. Guess I underestimated the effects of the dragon powder charge. Oh and thank you for your concer, but my hands are a mess."She then peeled back her gloves and revealed a tangle of blackened flesh, scar tissue, the odd scale, and even some minor bone spurs.

"No more dates for me I guess," she said with an exaggerated nonchalant sigh. "It doesn't hurt ...much. I think the evil of this place has warped them. That will be hard to explain to my order," she added with a frown.

Reyzenhart nodded at her sacrifice. "You killed many demons at least. You are responsible for Vilehorn's death as much as I am."

"don't forget your pretty girlfriend…Amirah I think her name was. Now that's a proper girl you should think about hooking up with… Reinhardt. Not these devil whores you have hanging around the place," she said with a wink while pointing at Naome's corpse with a backwards motion with her now twisted thumb.

Reyzenhart rolled his eyes in mock despair. "Are we going to get into this again. First off, I am a giant devil insect, we don't experience emotions like you mortals. All we think of is how to accomplish our tasks efficiently, and which heads to bite off. Secondly, an Assimar is the last person I would have as a companion. I have reputation to think about. It's bad enough I keep a paladin around, and we both know I use you to bless our weapons and to handle dangerous substances like holy water, so I can better kill my foes. Third, I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. The only thing I was thinking was if I should bite her head off, but I ….err….I was too weakened from my battle with Vilehorn to start another fight."

Ella mimicked his eyeroll. "Sure big guy….I saw you put up a struggle when she kissed you , you really fought back, really hard. That slip of an Assimar girl force her beautiful self on you and there was nothing you could do about it. Anyways, I'm glad you mentioned keeping me around. We both know you are going to be recalled to Stygia soon, and we both know I won't accompany you. I hunt demons, and through our mutual hatred of them, I've served under you till this point for that very reason. However, I won't accompany you to Baator to help your people settle your petty civil disputes."

Reyzenhart considered her statement and judged the distance between them. He guessed it would take five steps and a roughly a second to transform and bite her head off if he so chose. She was tough for a human, but she still wasn't a match for him. She had served him well, but her association with him would be nothing but a liability in the courts of Hell. It didn't matter how well he kept the secret, someone would find out and use this against him.

"Go," he said with a sigh. "I'll send a nominal force to hunt you down, but you'll get a good head start."

Ella looked at him in surprise. "What, no head biting?"

Reyzenhart smiled. "Don't think it didn't cross my mind. One more thing, I'm curious, we both know you hate demons, but why did you join my Legion? Devils are just as bad in most people's books. Surely there were other less dangerous and less morally ambiguous paths to accomplish your goals. You could have joined some adventuring crusaders or that Eladrin warband for example."

Ella stopped than looked at Reyzenhart intently. She then walked up to him and unexpectedly gave him a deep hug. After that she released her hold and walked towards a weapon display. " I did it because I saw you weren't as bad as the rest of this filth.. I did it because of all the dark souls and vile spirits I've encountered in these miserable realms, yours was worthy to be redeemed. Though you will never admit it, you are more decent than you let on. My spirit never faltered, but I saw yours might."

Reyzenhart paused at her statement and laughed. "You actually thought I could be…what's the word…redeemed? Risen? Sorry to disappoint you, but the Gray Wastes must have warped your judgement if you mistake my ruthless efficiency for mercy. "

Ella picked out a sword form Reyzenhart's weapon rack, tested its balance and then tied it to the belt on her hip. She then gave a knowing wink as she slipped out of the tent, "Of course, your soul is the blackest of night, your heart is the coldest of ice, your evil is boundless, and your villainy is legendary. Why else would you let a paladin escape from your camp with a head start no less. Good bye and best of luck in your civil war, great Reinhardt, slayer of Balors, kisser of Assimar."

Reyzenhart chuckled at her departure, not only was she useful, but she had an amusing sense of humor. He would miss her.

True to his word, Reyzenhart waited patiently in his tent to give her former servant a chance to flee.

"Bring in Targen!", he ordered at last.

The small Spinagon crept into his tent timidly, and was visibly shaking in his presence, especially after he saw the hint of the headless golden corpse under Ella's cloak. More importantly Reyzenhart smelled the faint scent of incense perfume on Targen, like that of the golden headless corpse. Reyzenhart knew he was the traitor, and he could probably get him to confess simply by growing into a giant insect and snapping his mandibles near his head. Unfortunately, this would plunge his Spinagon troops' morale even lower, perhaps to the point of desertion. They weren't the most useful units of the Thorn Legion, but they did prove their worth in Ribcracker Chasm. He was leaving the Legion to another commander soon, most likely Allisonara, but he hated wasting valuable resources.

Reyzenhart knew he couldn't simply execute the little traitor, even if he received a confession from him, but there was something he could do. "Targen, I need you to gather a half dozen of your most loyal troops. My human has escaped. I need you to hunt her down immediately."

Targen's fear vanished as the spikey imp looked visibly relieved. "Yes, great one. We serve the dark powers in your name!" he grovelled in his best sycophant voice.

"Do not fail me Targen. If you do not return with her head, I will take yours in return," he threatened.

The Spinagon saluted crisply before swiftly fleeing the tent.

"That was well done," noted Allisonara as she slipped out of the shadows. "Targen dies either from Ella's blade or your bite, satisfying both your need to punish traitors, and to cover the fact you are letting the human escape."

"You heard all of that?" grumbled Reyzenhart as he started to judge the distance from himself and to the Erinyes' neck.

"Of course and I'll be sure to use it against you when our partnership sours," she joked. "and don't give me that hungry look. We both know you won't bite my head off, I'm much too sweet for you. I just want to say good bye and good luck in Stygia. Killing Naome there will establish your credibility so to speak with Geryon, but it will also make you many enemies, especially in Belial's court. "

"Thank you for the warning and take care as well. I hope that if we ever meet on the battlefield , it will be on the same side," saluted Reyzenhart.

Allisonara took another glimpse at the golden corpse. "And I hope, that if you ever lunge at me like you did poor Naome there, you will mistake me for an assimar and attempt to shower me with kisses and not to bite my head off," she grinned.

Reyzenhart shook his head and laughed, "It's not even funny anymore you know. That sounds more like a dare than a taunt now."


	6. Chapter 6

"Retreat? " shouted the dark winged Allisonara to no one in particular. "What is this nonsense? "

Garthraxus sat glumly in the corner of the lavish obsidian war room. The brutish Barbazu occupied almost two chairs, and his great beard almost dragged on the ground, but he seemed to shrink in silence at the news.

"Those are your orders. You are to abandon Belial's palace in Abriymoch and pull out of Phlegethos altogether," said the blue robed Reinhardt almost as an apology. "Truth be known, its worse than it sounds. The dragon armies of Tiamat are pulling out of the Iron City of Dis. I've also heard that Geryon's main army is retreating out of Maladomini before they get a chance to engage Mysdemn Wordtwister's forces, and he is abandoning his holds he established in Malbolge as well. "

Allisonara shook her head in disbelief. "Why? Twenty years of endless warfare, and hard fought victories, just to retreat when victory is at hand? It makes no sense," she grumbled.

"Twenty years for you, but closing to fifty for me," corrected Reinhardt.

The Ice Devil commander was pulled from his position in the Gray Wastes to participate what was thought to be a localized civil war between his lord Geryon and his arch nemesis Belial. He was initially assigned as a general to one of Stygia's front line Legions, but his eye for strategy quickly got him promoted into Geryon's command staff when the conflict escalated. Before long, slothful Mammon, bitter Moloch, scheming Baalzebul, and even mysterious Mephistopheles threw in with fiery Belial, while the dragon queen Tiamat and the arch fiend Asmodeus supported bestial Geryon. Though they were initially vastly outnumbered, the power of Tiamat's dragon armies, the ferocity of Geryon the beast's legions, and of course the strength of Asmodeus' pitfiends held the line. It didn't take long however for the balance of power to turn, since Avernus and Stygia were the entry planes for the Nine hells, and whomever controlled those strategic areas controlled the souls and traffic for all of the Pit. Avernus was the doorway for all new souls, while Stygia was the main thoroughfare for the rivers Styx and Lethe. Asmodeus and his allies were able to pull allied Baatorian Legions out of their domains in the other lower planes to support their cause, while the unaligned or outright hostile Legions were effectively shut out by literally the Gates of Hell. The Thorn legion itself was forced to abandon its hard fought holdings in the Field of Nettles to participate in the Phlegethos campaign when cautious Dispater abandoned his neutrality and threw in with the rebels. In the end, it didn't matter how many rebels popped up, as Asmodeus and his allies had the pits in a deadly vice and were using the civil war, or "The Great Reckoning" as it became to be known , to flush out their enemies.

Allisonara fumed, but then her countenance relaxed. "I suppose this means we won right? That's why we're pulling back. These must be terms of the peace conditions? We can revel as victors soon right?"

Reinhardt closed his eyes and sighed. The things in the hells were seldom so cut and dry. "Yes….and …..no. Technically the rebels have surrendered, and we have won, but there will be little celebration I'm afraid. There is to be a great reorganization in the pit. The Dragon Queen Tiamat will retain her realms, but she will step down as the Pitfiend Bel will resume control of Avernus."

Allisonara nodded. "Not a bad choice. He's served the Dark Eight well."

Reinhardt tilted his head in semi approval. While Bel was a competent leader, there were other more capable Pitfiends that could have taken that position. " Dispaster will once again rule the Iron city of Dis, while Mammon retains stewardship of Minauros. Beilial however will only retain an advisory role as his daughter Fierna will assume leadership of that realm."

"Wait…Fierna? That little bitch I have locked up in the dungeons right now?" gasped the Erinyes indignantly. "She couldn't rule over the brothel I found her in, let alone this whole realm," she exclaimed while gesturing to the central map in the war room.

"Agreed, but I think that's the point. Asmodeus doesn't want …how should we say…enlightened leaders at the head of the enemy."

"Bah, he should execute the lot and appoint a whole batch of new Archdevils"

Reinhardt considered her statement than shook his head. "The rebel loyalists would just rise up again. This way he keeps the peace, and has a shorter leash on his foes. Better to deal with ….how shall I say …the devil you know, than the devil you don't know."

Allisonara smiled. "I dunno, I think Archduke Reyzenhart has a nice ring to it."

Reinhardt frowned. Partially because the notion was ridiculous. He had not even ascended to pitfiend yet while his friend teases him with becoming an Archduke of all things. Also he found it odd that the name Reyzenhart sat so uncomfortably with him. Fifty years ago, he would squirm slightly at being called Reinhardt , an ill fated name he chose for himself when he defeated Vilehorn, but a half century of ruthless teasing later, it had come to the point where he actually preferred that moniker instead of his proper Gelugon name.

"Moloch shall be imprisoned, and the Hag Queen shall replace him. "

"A non Baatezu ruling Malebolge? Interesting and bold, but I guess the Dragon Queen wasn't a devil either."

"Baalzebul retains his leadership, but has been transformed into a giant slug."

Garthraxus grunted in approval loudly in the corner at the news. Baalzebul had fought the hardest amongst the rebels, and it seemed fitting that he should be punished as such.

"Not much is known about Mephistopheles' fate, but I suspect things will remain status quo in Cania."

Allisonara scrunched her nose in an almost cute grimace. "We all know he did the least outwardly , but was pulling the strings on this whole affair. We even found secret missives here in Abriymoch to support it. If anyone should be turned into a giant slug it should be that blighter. "

"I agree, and I'm certain there are many others that share our thoughts, but sadly not Asmodeus."

Allisonara stared at the war map in her war room and especially at the crosses nominally placed there that represented all the battles she had fought to earn her the enemy's capital. "I notice you skipped Lord Geryon's fate. Surely he must be rewarded for his loyalty."

Reinhardt sighed. " Lord Geryon has been given the task to lead his victorious legions in a crusade to capture the domains we had lost to the demons during the 'Great Reckoning'. In his place , lord Leviticus will rule Stygia. To maintain the balance of the pits, those that fought with Geryon can alternatively join the Black Pitfiend who is creating a Legion whose sole purpose is to operate on foreign soil. A unit that will be given full honors and privilege but never to step foot on Baatorian soil, face permanent exile, or they can choose to assimilate their souls back into the pit."

Garthraxus grunted at the offer while Allisonara remained deafly quiet. Reinhardt knew that it was a slap in the face for those that had fought for Asmodeus, but was needed to prevent another civil war from breaking out. Geryon had amassed so much power during the insurrection, that he had set himself up as the next archrival to Asmodeus if action wasn't taken to curb his power and the power of his legions. An excruciating long and bitter campaign in the Bloodwars should keep him and his troops occupied.

"It could be worse you know," added Reinhardt with a shrug. " While Geryon has been effectively exiled, he at least relishes that role. The strategists and thinkers of the war aren't so lucky. For exampe, even the ranks of the Dark Eight, the ruling council of pitfiends, is to be gutted. Zaebos will be forcibly absorbed into Nessus, while their two greatest generals Dagos and Baalphzon have been cursed into the form of lowly imps. A shame really, since Baalphzon's strategies were what really won us this war."

Allisonara paused at the statement. She then stared directly at Reinhardt , her forehead furrowed while her eyebrows arched helplessly to the side. Reinhardt had never seen that look on her before, and it took him a second to realize it was a look of concern or worry. "What…what about you? Your right up there with Baalphzon when it comes to strategy and tactics. "

Reinhardt smiled. "No need to worry yourself. Fortunately for me, my skills have not been as regarded as they should. I've been given the standard choice like yourselves."

Allisonara breathed a sigh of relief and considered their situation. "Well exile is out of the question. We can't survive without the discipline and the order, let alone a means to support ourselves. I doubt there will be a pension involved and banditry is not for me. And I don't relish slogging through the field of Nettles again, even if it's under Geryon's banner. So I guess its Lord Black's Legion for us." Garthraxus nodded in approval, though Reinhardt knew that he bearded devil would have chosen to be absorbed back into the pit if the Erinyes told him to. "With the three of us there, tt will be just like old times in the Thorn Legion. I may be able to get Kelgor to join, that is if he didn't get chopped to pieces in that big ambush in Minauros, or maybe some of those Steel Devils if they haven't all been killed yet."

Reinhardt shook his head. "I'm not joining the Black Legion. I'm going into exile." He also wanted to mention that he expected retribution from both Belial and Fierna for biting off Naome's head, but he did not wish to worry the Erinyes.

"Excuse me ? How are you going to survive by yourself. How are you going to fit in? No offense but you're an Ice Devil for the Pit's sake even if you have the unique ability to look like a tiefling. How will you support yourself? Are you going to be some lone wandering monster that preys on hapless adventurers? "

Reinhardt wasn't sure himself, he was about to answer but to everyone's surprise Garthaxus snorted from the corner. "He looks like a tiefling because he's mastered some lowly magic finger waggler spell called 'altered self', its not unique. He can support himself from the army of slaves he's accumulated. Reinhardt here has been buying slaves, specifically assimars, celestials, and the occasional lost adventurer, in the slave markets of Coldsteel Citadel. No one knows what he does with all of them since he doesn't have a harem or estates for them to work in Stygia , but the chant is he simply bites their heads off. I've heard however the dark about some bally sod that is sending off pretties to Tekka in Gehenna, that backring tiefling fade town we sacked two centuries ago. "

Allisonara and Reinhardt both stopped and almost dropped their jaws at their normally quiet companion. "How..how do you know all this?" asked Reinhardt in shock.

Garthraxus shrugged. "During one of the breaks in the war, me and some of the other barshers had some R and R so we decided to pick up some slaves to …..slake our lusts on. Well, won't you know it, some white albino berk out bid us on all the good looking lots, and we were left with night hag women….ughh….night hag women," the bearded devil replied with a shudder.

Allisonara's eyes narrowed first at the thought that Garthraxus was fooling around with night hags, then at Reinhardt's secret slave buying activities. "What are you doing with all these slaves? Do you have some hellish planation in Tekka, or maybe a brothel of some sort? You aren't secretly a pimp are you?"

Reinhardt found himself more offended that he should have. "No..its not like that," he protested but was interrupted by Garthraxus once again.

"Isn't it obvious, he still pines for that Assimar chick, Adriah, Emmyeah, or whatever he met five hands ago. He probably just trying to get the on her from all the slaves he buys," shrugged Garthraxus.

Allisonara blinked at Reinhardt whose stark white skin began turning a shade of red, and then she began to laugh. "Well please tell me you have them slaving away in some salt mine in Tekka or at least in a whore house. Just so I can decide on a parting gift for you. Either a slave whip or maybe a big wide brimmed hat with a feather on it, to match your new role in life. "

Reinhardt said nothing as the Erinyes and Barbazu mocked him. He calculated that he could probably bite Allisonara's head off before she could react, but Garthraxus's fat neck was probably too thick. He would have to settle for stabbing his face repeatedly with the poison stinger on his tail.

Before he could enact his vengeful plan however, the dark winged Erinyes held a hand and stopped the laughter. "Amirah right? So did you find her at least? " she asked in an earnest tone.

Reinhardt shook his head and sighed. " No. It's hard to find someone when you are leading the armies of hell full time. Divinations and communes could not locate her, so I …I dunno I thought she might end up in a slave market, or at least someone who knows her might end up there. I've gotten a few leads, but they were all fruitless. One told me there was an elderly Amirah working as a scribe in Sigil, while another had her confused with some Eladrin wind spirit. To tell you the truth, I don't even know if that's her real name. Given that its been almost fifty years now, she might have died by now, through violence or old age. I guess it was all a fool's dream to find her again."

Allisonara then turned to Garthraxus. "Out, " she commanded simply. The bearded devil scowled but obeyed promptly. He shuffled his broad squat frame and marched out of the war room, carefully closing the door securely after he left.

"No, I can't give you any of my slaves," sighed Reinhardt sensing the blackmail attempt that was to come, " I had no need of them, and had my agents simply released them there. I do have a store of astral diamonds or gold if you want..."

The Erinyes did not seem too concerned about the slaves or money. She walked up to Reinhardt and pushed him hard against the main war table. While he was vastly stronger than her in his natural insect form, she was more than a match for him when he was a tiefling. Before Reinhardt could react, she pressed against his body with her own lithe form and locked her lips against his, executing a long deep kiss between them. Reinhardt wasn't sure what had possessed his friend, but did not struggle to break her hold. He just stood there and accepted her passion blankly, like a piece of timber , or a featureless wall.

After a while Allisonara broke off the kiss and fell back in disgust, wiping her lips of his taste with her forearm. "You felt nothing there did you?"

Reinhardt shrugged. "Was I supposed to? We both know I'm a giant insect under this façade."

Allisonara shrugged,"I'm not a Succubus , or a seducer devil, or anything of that sorts. I like to defeat my foes with my arrows or blade, not through honeyed words or the touch of my flesh. But before my fall from grace, I mastered a thing or two about love and manipulating physical desires. I'm guessing from your eunuch like reactions to my irresistible kiss that you don't have a physical yearning thing for this Amirah girl."

"Of course not! I'm a giant ins…"

"Yeah, yeah a giant insect. I get it. All sex means to you is a quick insertion with your ovipositor and the decision of whether you are eaten by your mate or not. I know this," giggled Allisonara. "So tell me Reinhardt Assimar kisser, Reyzenhart headbiter. Why do you want to find this girl?"

The shifted Icedevil wasn't sure himself, but tried the best he could to explain. "When Vilehorn was about to defeat me. I felt terribly alone and almost frightened. Not because I was cut off from my comrades, or because I failed in my duty. Not even for the fear I would be absorbed into the Gray Wastes or lose some of myself if I were to reform back in Stygia. As a soldier of hell, we all accept that would be our eventual fate. My fear was the realization of how empty my life was up to this point. How I was nothing but a cog in the great wheel of Tyranny that represented the pit. Well just before I died, Amirah and her fellow Assimar showed up and rescued me, and for a split second I felt whole. Like someone cared about me. I thought it was just a passing feeling, a reflexive response to be rescuing, but when the Balor tossed Amirah to the side, something in me made me go out of my way to save her. I couldn't let her smash against the rocks. I don't know why I did it, but I did, like I had no choice in the matter, and there it was again when I caught her. A brief sensation of wholeness of completeness. Well after we somehow killed Vilehorn, we kissed. Actually she kissed me, since the thought of physical contact between genders holds little meaning to me, as you so poignantly pointed out. I can't explain it, but for that moment, in that brief period of time, everything in the world was right. To tell you the truth the actual kiss did nothing for me, but for a brief second I felt a connection to her. I felt complete , I felt whole. Sadly that didn't last. Afterwards, I felt the emptiness in my soul that I didn't know exist before. "

"It's hard to explain, but the best analogy I have is it's like finding a hole that was hidden by a rug in your castle. You don't even know it's there till the rug is pulled out. Then you always have to tread carefully else you fall into the hole. Anyways I could never duplicate that same sensation again. I even tried the kissing thing on some of the first Assimar and Celestials I bought, but there was nothing there. No rug so to speak. Believe it or not, I even hired a Succubus to push me to the physical brink of lust. I almost died from her life draining, but again …no rug. "

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I would do if I actually found her. I was thinking about simply biting her head off , and keeping it as a good luck trophy to ease my mind, but I doubt it's that simple. Maybe it's a simple chemical reaction, a unique drug she produces in her glands that reacts specifically with my own that gives the feeling of euphoria. If so , severing her head would stop any further production of this drug. I could attempt to befriend her, but who are we kidding? We are polar opposites. What's worse is she thinks I'm a tiefling. Transforming into a giant white insect devil definitely won't help in the relationship department."

"We both know , as devils it's foolish to expect anything but bitterness and betrayal from our existence. Even mighty Geryon and victorious Asmodeus with all their power and prestige can expect nothing but disappointment in the end. Despite this, we all pursue higher goals, even though we know the result will be failure. We might find temporary solace but our existence is simply a long cycle of struggle and I hate to admit it, but as a race, we devils thrive on that."

"So…. Even though I realize finding her is futile. I will continue to do so. Given the opportunity presented to me, that's all I can do. Engage in a senseless struggle."

Allisonara listened intently and then thought over her words in silence. "What will you do if you don't find her? From what you've told me, chances are you won't."

Reinhardt shrugged. "I know many denizens in the lower planes, and believe it or not beyond. As a member of Geryon's general staff, I had the unique opportunity to establish contacts in places you won't believe the pit has interests in. I'm sure with my network of associates; I could keep myself busy by becoming an information broker, a guide, a cutter, or even a mercenary if it comes to it. I have the feeling though, I'll probably continue to visit lower planar slave markets to buy and release slaves that don't belong there. I don't know why, but freeing slaves temporarily eases that void in this husk I call my heart of ice," he explained while pounding his chest.

Reinhardt wasn't sure why he revealed so much to the dark winged Erinyes. Even though she was the closest thing he had to what mortals called a friend, she was first and foremost a devil, and to his experience one of the more vicious and violent ones he had the pleasure of knowing. He expected her to mock his weakness mercilessly, to laugh or ridicule his foolish notions but she didn't.

Allisonara simply approached Reinhardt once again, except this time with a sad look on her face. He half expected her to attempt to kiss him as before, but instead the Dark winged Erinyes simply spread her wings and folded them around him. Under the protection of her wings she placed her head on his shoulders ,while giving him a deep hug. For a second he felt some of that void vanish in his heart of ice, but it quickly rushed back in when she broke off contact and walked to the doors of the war room.

"Whomever or whatever you are looking for Reyzenhart, I hope you find it. It seems we will be going our separate paths once again, but you know you can always rely on me and to a lesser extent Garthraxus if you need help, so don't be afraid to call if you need to," she said as she left the room. "Oh…and one more thing. One very important thing. If , by the pit you find this Amirah person. Whatever you do, do not. And I really stress this regardless of how hungry you are, DO NOT bite her head off! "

Reinhardt smiled as he waved goodbye. "I'll keep that in mind."


	7. Chapter 7

Fiawa's crystal grotto was said to be one of the most beautiful places in Arborea. Quite a feat considering the plane was known as the embodiment of untamed natural beauty. The grotto itself was in the shape of a cave, covered by large crystal facets. The facets were reflective enough to reflects its owners lovely face and features, but not enough so that a viewer would get dizzy. Even more remarkable was the grove's acoustic properties. Simple notes and sounds reverberated harmonically within, like a sweet natural echo. A fortunate feat indeed, considering Fiawa's legendary musical voice.

Despite being in such a breathtaking surrounding, Amirah's thoughts came to a jarring halt when the suggestion was made.

"Have you lost your head?" asked Amirah Froststorm almost dropping her glass. The Eladrin warrior was adorned in formal attire, which for her was a pretty ensemble of gold gilded steel and red silks, but she still projected an image of deadly power.

"No, I think it's a wonderful idea. You've served as huntsman for far too long, you should take a break," said Fiawa in her soothing muscical voice as she sipped from her goblet. She was a large and beautiful sinuous creature that was part elf and part winged rainbow snake. While she was much bigger than her militant companion, she presented a more friendly, approachable, and sensuous aura about her.

Amirah paused and shook her head, she placed the glass down and considered leaving Fiawa's crystal grove. Even if it was a personal invitation from her friend to catch up with drinks and fruit, she felt insulted at her suggestion. "I have been a Hunstman of Arborea for sixty years, and before that I served under Kelvan for thirty. I will not abandon almost a century of protecting our realm for frivolous pusuits. I am speed, I am the wind, I am the hurricane. I will not change, " she said curtly, barely restraining her anger.

Fiawa disarmed her rage, with her legendary simple smile. Even before she was elevated to a Lillend, Fiawa was known for her innocent charm and demure. "Eladrins like ourselves are meant for more than killing demons and monsters. We are poets, painters, dancers, singers, and of course lovers."

Amirah shifted uncomfortably at the last bit but remained silent.

"And don't tell me you haven't changed. Everything changes. Even our name is slowly changing. I've heard people refer to us Azata now, and not our proper Eladrin names. I actually don't mind the new name, but that's just an example. As for you my dear Amirah, I've noticed lots of changes , even if you haven't or won't admit it. For one thing, you always use to be in your wind form, now I rarely see you in it."

Amirah shrugged. "When I was Kelvan's second, I did not need to talk. I only roared in the winds and he would listen. I will conceded the point though. I have been in my humanoid form more than I use to be. As a Huntsman, I need to be able to communicate better to both my subordinates and to the council in Arborea."

"Well I tried. Honestly Amirah, I worry for you. I know the value of the work you do. Remember,before I became Curator of Histories, I served under Kelvan for a decade, and under you for two more. That's more than most Eladrins, but I knew when to quit before the darkness engulfed me. The lower planes aren't just a place where monsters crawl out of. It's toxic, it's poisonous, it's a blight on your soul. "

Amirah sighed. "I thank you for your concern. You are one of the few true friends I have Fiawa, but now is not the time for me to abandon my post. When I am ready to move on, you will be the first to know."

Fiawa nodded in acceptance, but still frowned as she began serving cups of spiced fruit. Though Eladrins did not need material sustenance, the act of enjoying the sensations of taste was highly valued. Amirah however did not share her brethren's base needs, but ate the fruit out of respect for her friend's efforts. Surprisingly, it was very good. The dish was sickeningly sweet, but only for a second, before the crisp texture of the fruit balanced out the flavor, a unique taste that seemed to lighten the mood in the crystal grove.

"So…..when and if you quit…..what do you have in plan?" asked the Lillend, as her enthusiasm returned.

"I ..I actually haven't thought of that. When I was a young girl I had such grand dreams. I thought of following Kelvan and winning him over with my bravery. He would whisk me away and we would live happily ever after, but we both know how that turned out," Amirah paused after that statement, and wondered why she revealed such a personal statement. Was it because of the fruit, or perhaps it was because innocent Fiawa was asking? Or maybe it was just her loneliness talking?

"Kelvan meant a lot. Not just to you, but to all of us. He was a great hero and a friend. I know you hold onto being a Huntsman, as a tribute to him, but it's been sixty years now. I'm sorry for your loss Amirah, but maybe it's time to move on," stated the Lillend with downturned eyes.

Sixty years ago, Amirah would have raged at that statement like some accusation aimed at her heart, but the Bralani warrior simply nodded. "Maybe it is time to move on, but to what? For all its delights and glory, there's nothing here in Arborea for me."

Fiawa's eyes narrowed mischievously. "Oh don't say that dear. As one of the greatest artists in the realm, it is my professional opinion that you are quite the stunning beauty. With your flawless skin, large expressive eyes, and of course your athletic physique, I'm sure you can easily catch the eye of a handsome Eladrin noble if you wanted to. "

Amirah snorted at her statement. "Oh, yes. Someone like that coward Oberon right? I'm sorry Fiawa. I'm not as easy going as you. I can't become the center of the crowd like you can. To tell you the truth , these last sixty years I haven't been courted once nor have I even kissed a man."

Fiawa's shook her finger. "Well that's because you're knee deep in demon ichor all day. It's hard to get a suitor when they have to watch out for demons all the time. But Nu uh….your statement's not wholly true anyways. What about that handsome Ryeheart fellow? "

Amirah sighed. "His name was Reinhardt, he was a tiefling."

"Aww…so you remember him after all. I saw the way you two kissed. It didn't matter if he has fiend blood. I could almost feel the passion radiating from you two. It was quite scandalous really! If you can't get a date, maybe you should look him up, " Fiawa said while waving her hand like a fan to cool her neck.

"That was sixty years ago, I'm sure he won't remember me."

"Nu uh…Believe me Amirah, I know men. He will definitely remember that kiss you two shared. He's probably been bragging about it to all his tiefling friends all this time. The day he kissed an Eladrin princess after killing a Balor. I mean, what man wouldn't brag about that? " laughed Fiawa.

Amirah shook her head. "Tieflings are not a long lived race, and he was in a very violent profession. I think it likely he's probably dead."

"Well you won't know unless you look?"

Amirah froze, she remained in that position for several seconds before her shoulders slumped." I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I already have. A lot actually. When we parted, I told him, ' I hope we never meet again.' Upon reflection, I thought those were poorly chosen words. The man saved my life, yet I gave him this rude warning. So when I wasn't crusading through the dark realms, I tried to find him and apologize for my ill choice of words. "

"Apologize…yeah right," smirked Fiawa as she flicked her long tail playfully.

"Anyways…Reinhardt is a fairly common name amongst Tieflings, and white skin is not uncommon. However, one that slew a Balor should have been easy to find, but alas, no tieflings that matched those characteristics could be found. I followed some rumors, but the closest ones I found was reports of an old albino cutter operating out of Sigil, and believe it or not rumors of an Ice Devil General in Stygia that frequently bought slaves so he could feast on their skulls."

Fiawa cringed at the mention of the Ice Devil and his foul deeds, but quickly recovered from her revulsion. "Well, no one said it would be easy. However, if you truly wish to quit your post as Hunstman, let me know. I'll be happy to set you up with some handsome gentlemen I know. Trust me , they might bite, but certainly not your head off."

The pair of Eladrins began laughing, but were suddenly interrupted by Cynia, Fiawa's personal Tamah servant. The winged blue skinned woman bowed before the pair, but blurted out her message before the proper formalities were exchanged. "I'm sorry Lady Fiawa, but there's an issue that requires your immediate attention. The Archives, have been broken into."

* * *

Amirah wasn't sure why Fiawa was in such a panic, but she accompanied the Lillend all the same. To the Bralani noble, there couldn't possibly be anything that should have caused her friend to worry so much in Arborea of all places. After all, she had fought by her side in the lower planes, and a significant portion of that was in the form of a fragile little courre. Hordes of chaotic demons, legions of tyrannical devils, ranks of mercenary daemons and even the occasional encounter with a sinister night hag, or demodand jailor should have hardened her friend to anything that simple Arborea could throw her way. Especially, considering her job was simply a Custodian to the Arboreal Archives, a museum of past deeds.

Not that the Arboreal Archives held little meaning to Amirah, since that was where all the great deeds of the Court of Stars were immortalized, but to her knowledge it held nothing valuable or dangerous. Those sort of items were placed in guarded vaults and treasuries under Queen Morwel's palace. The items in Fiawa's care were simply glorified mementos and knickknacks.

Even when they arrived at the Archives, Amirah spotted only two young Shiere Eladrin poking through the rubble, both had the same bored expressions as she had. Despite this, Fiawa was caught up in a frenzy of worry.

"This can't be happening. Our new exhibit was to open in a month. People were counting on me. My reputation is ruined!" she said as she began to hyperventilate. Amirah nodded as if she comprehended her frustration, she had known Fiawa for over a century and her friend had changed little. Even as a small little courre she could still be a drama queen.

One of the Shiere, an elven looking humanoid that could occasionally turn into a ball of faire light, gave Fiawa a list. The Lillend looked even more appalled as she read the contents that were stolen. " Vaero's broken blade? Sirena's girdle? Vilehorn's skull? Even the first rocks from Olympia? " she sobbed dramatically. "Irreplaceable treasures, everyone !"

Amirah nodded in agreement, even as her keen eyes and tracker instincts spotted something on the ground. She kneeled low, and found several crystals of dark ice on the ground. "Did you spot something? " asked Fiawa in mid sob, as she noticed Amirah deep in concentration.

"Perhaps. I found some unmelted black ice on the ground. Given the color of the ice , and the fact it hasn't melted in the mild temperatures of Arborea, I'm guessing its from Agathys the lowest plane in the prison world of Carceri. A bleak nightmarish realm of black icebergs drifting in seas of acid," noted Amirah. As one of the senior Huntsmen of Arborea, the Bralani noble's knowledge of the lower planes was quite vast.

"These vandals came from Agathys ? " said Fiawa in both shock and fear. Unlike most planes which had multiple entry points, Carceri was a prison world that only had one way in and out. An expedition to Agathys would take a mighty army or a stealthy few a few months to even reach.

"Possibly, but not necessarily. The icebergs there do occasionally float up to the upper swamp levels of Othrys. In fact I've heard of enterprising tieflings in the fade town of Trevvan which is currently in Carceri, , that drag and export the infernal ice just for its eternal properties. There's no telling where your thieves might be, but that would be a good place to start."

Fiawa's frown vanished. "This is wonderful! We can recover these stolen artifacts ourselves before my name is dragged in the mud. With the best tracker in Arborea at my side, we'll be in and out before anyone notices! " she beamed.

Amirah held out both her hands. She was a Royal Huntsman, bound to battle evil, not to chase down petty thieves like some lazy constabulary. She was about to decline the offer, but found she couldn't turn down her only friend in the world's plea.

"Please Amirah. This will be just like old times." Fiawa asked again with her big innocent pleading eyes.

Fiawa regretted opening her big mouth and sighed to the Lillend's delight. " Alright, then . Just like old times."

* * *

Reaching the fade town of Trevvan was relatively simple. While both Amirah and Fiawa lacked the power to open magical portals, they were both worldly enough to know the closest gates and shortest paths through the aether to travel to get there.

Trevvan itself was a curious settlement, inhabited mostly by tieflings and other lesser astral denizens. As Amirah stated, it was currently next to a swamp and there were several black icebergs there next to it being 'mined' by its inhabitants. The ice shared some of the mind sapping powers of the River Styx, which made it a popular and valuable accompaniment for alcoholic beverages in the lower planes.

The town was a ramshackle collection of huts arranged in a defensive circle from all directions including the swamp, and Fiawa noted that its curious arrangement made it look more like a boil on the landscape rather than a town. Amirah however knew otherwise. As a 'fade town' Trevvan was known to experience the occasional dimensional shifts. Though it normally resided either here or on the wildlands of the Concordant plane of Opposition, it would sometimes shift to much lower and much more dangerous planes. True demons and other horrors would attack the town mercilessly in these thankfully rare and short shifts, which was why the inhabitants were always defensive minded in their city planning. Amirah couldn't imagine why anyone would live in such a place, but did concede that such dimensional hopping towns made trade very easy and lucrative.

Amirah had low hopes of finding Fiawa's thieves or vandals here. She thought it would be likelier that they would have absconded with their minor treasures to sell in Sigil the city of portals, Axis the Eternal city, or even the fiery City of Brass. Upon further reflection, even the Iron City of Dis or that new dimensional hub known as Grom would be likely places to fence off Fiawa's purloined 'treasures'. The Bralani noble only accompanied Fiawa to humor her and felt there was very little chance to actually find these thieves. At best, she hoped a day in such a miserable cesspool would discourage her friend back to friendly whimsical Arborea.

The locals weren't exactly friendly, especially to a pair of Azatas or Eladrins. Amirah could have changed into wind, but she needed her elven form to ask questions. Even with an old cloak that disguised her features and masked her armor, her Eladrin beauty, poise, and most importantly hygiene still set her out from the masses of ugly, stinking, and slightly deformed tieflings. Fiawa on the other hand stuck out like a sore thumb regardless of her clothing, not surprising since she was a 2000 lb angelic winged elf with a giant snake torso.

Despite their stark appearances in the sea of misshapen devil spawn, Fiawa made remarkable progress in questioning the 'natives'. Amirah smiled as her friend's charm won over admirers regardless of their origins. After some shameless eyelash batting and suggestive sauntering from the Lillend, several tieflings recalled some cutters 'adventurers or thieves' had made recently made a big score of jink 'stolen goods' from one of celestial home worlds. A quick trip to the local bar, and some direct heavy handed confrontation by Amirah later, these thieves quickly confessed their crimes.

While Fiawa was delighted that they had quickly caught them, she was disappointed in that they didn't have the stolen items in hand. Apparently after some literal arm twisting by Amirah, the bandits told them that they were given maps of the Archive, and interestingly enough command words to bypass the magical wards. Amirah was a bit shocked at the news. If the thieves' patron could help them easily access the Archives of Arborea, what would stop them from overcoming the Court of Stars or even Queen Morwel's palace.

Before she could contemplate such things, Fiawa rushed them head long to confront this mysterious patron and recover the stolen artifacts.

"This doesn't seem right. We should head back and alert the Ghaele Elite," warned Amirah as they entered the dense hive like slums of Trevvan.

"We'll warn them after we get my treasures back," smiled Fiawa as her bulk remarkably slipped nimbly through the narrow streets. "Honestly, you worry too much. You're a Royal Huntsman of Arborea. You killed a Balor for Morwel's sake. After slaying countless hordes of bad guys, what could possibly threaten you?"

Amirah frowned as she ducked under a low beam. Mention of Vilehorn briefly made her recall the tiefling she had met so long ago, but she quickly suppressed those feelings. "Being cautious was how I survived all these years. Being headstrong will just get us killed."

Fiawa stopped at her statement, and then began to giggle at her friend. " I can't believe I just heard you say that. You of all people were the most brash and hasty of Kelvan's band. My oh my has old age changed you."

Amirah considered her words and then chuckled with her, "You're right. I have changed. I use to hate my humanoid form, and preferred to fly like the wind, now look at me. I'm sludging through this cesspool like a common cutter."

As the two Eladrin laughed at their predicament, suddenly their progress came to a halt. Since she was taking the lead, Amirah came to an unexplained stop. Before she could react, Fiawa crashed into her and pressed her tightly against what could only be an invisible barrier of some sorts. Amirah powered her friend back, and noticed a barrier of powdered cold iron, the anathema of Eladrins, spread out in a line on the ground before them.

"It's a trap!" she yelled as she realized the implications of her observation. She attempted to shift into her wind form to evade whatever lied ahead, but to her horror found she couldn't. She then turned to her friend and saw glowing chains wrapping around her, causing her to crash into the ground .

"Amirah, help!" yelped Fiawa before the chains finished their work and bound her mouth as well. The Lillend writhed helplessly on the dirt as several armored figures emerged from the surrounding slums.

Amirah drew her golden scimitar to face her attackers but sensed something was off with them. They had dark ebon skin and wore elaborately carved platemail. Waves of evil and power seemed to emanate from them as they raised their black steel swords to strike.

"Cambions," hissed Amirah as she identified her foes. The foul spawn of mortals and greater demons were a dangerous foe indeed. Though they were similar to tieflings, that was saying a lowly Dretch was similar to a mighty Balor.

Amirah dodged the first Cambions' strike and danced into their ranks. With a simple twist she exploded into action, slashing twice at the one on her right, twirling in a half circle to evade their attacks, striking left before lunging forwards. All her attacks connected in a blink of an eye and were each followed by a shower of sparks and the splash of dark blood, the half demons' armor were no match for her humming golden scimitar. While some sort of magic stopped her from assuming her aerial form, she was still speed, the wind, and the all destructive hurricane.

Though the Cambions briefly retreated from the fury of her attacks, a larger more sinister looking half demon crashed through a flimsy slum wall and slammed a blade carved seemingly of obsidian towards her. Amirah attempted to parry the attack but was shocked that her golden blade couldn't deflect the irresistible weapon hurtling towards her head. She barely managed to evade the bulk of the fell blow, but was slashed across the shoulder before she could slip away. The wounded Bralani noble stumbled back, but was set upon by the three earlier Cambions before she could recover.

Still reeling from the larger half demon's blow, Amirah was cut in the back by a blade even as a heavy sword pommel slammed her in the side of the head. A lesser Eladrin would have succumbed to the armored demons' relentless assault, but the attacks seemingly ignited her fury. With renewed rage and raw power coursing through her, Amirah pushed one of the Cambions away with a swift but deceptively powerful kick, even as she met the steel of another. A quick twirl of her scimitar seemed to draw the momentum of the dark blade as the two weapons danced in a circle. Suddenly Amirah brought her scimitar backwards causing the trapped weapon to follow it and plunging into the stomach of the Cambion that slashed her in the back. The wounded Cambion stared in anger at the betrayal but lost his expression when he fell to the ground. The other Cambion had a brief stunned expression on his face, but that was short lived before Amirah's golden scimitar cut him across the face and throat with two rapid slashes.

The larger Cambion seemed pleased at the slaughter of two of his brothers and gave Amirah a curt bow. "You are a worthy foe indeed. Your golden scimitar is certainly a match for my obsidian blade. Prepare yourself wretch, prepare for the wrath of Malleus," he bellowed before charging the Bralani noble.

Amirah calmly awaited the charging ebon half demon, even as she sensed the Cambion she kicked earlier was circling to her left flank. After their initial attack, the crowded slums hampered her larger opponents, and Amirah was confident she could use this to her advantage. As she readied herself to slip past her more direct opponent, she sensed a fey like aura coming up from her rear. Eladrin reinforcements?

"Amirah, it's me Kelvan!" shouted a light voice. Amirah froze for a second even though she sensed the voice and the manner of speech was wrong. She realized it wasn't Kelvan, but it was too late as Malleus slammed into her. While she still had the celerity to avoid his sword, the big half demon rammed into her light frame with her shoulder sending her crashing through a flimsy mortared wall head first.

Amirah was bathed in pain, but her honed battle instincts pushed her to get back on her feet. She bravely sprang back onto her wobbly legs, scimitar at the ready, but was struck by a dark ray that seemingly drained her strength.

"Stand back Malleus, let me have my fun," laughed the lighter voice as another bolt of dark energy struck her.

Amirah fell on one knee. She attempted to rise once more, but was so drained she dropped her scimitar instead.

"This little bitch just won't fall will she," complained the now sneering fey like voice. "Malleus, will you please?"

Amirah had trouble lifting her eyelids to see her foe, but she finally recognized the familiar voice. Before she could challenge her foe, she heard a reluctant grunt followed by her head exploding into darkness.

* * *

The ground seemed to rock methodically as Amirah slowly recovered.

"Wake up, my sweet desert wind," coaxed the light voice once again.

"I would like to match my Obsidian blade with her Golden Scimitar, Lord Oberon," asked a gruff hollow voice. "She is a worthy foe."

"Nonsense, my revenge takes priority over you're your petty need to challenge yourself, and technically it's my Golden Scimitar now, " admonished the haughty light voice.

"Oberon, " hissed Amirah as she slowly regained her senses.

"My my, I am honored to be remembered by a mighty Hunstman of Arborea such as yourself," laughed the fallen Tulani noble.

As Amirah gathered her wits she was a bit surprised at her surroundings. Instead of the slums of Trevvan, she was aboard a flat barge of some sort, and judging by the acrid smell in the air, she guessed she was still in Othrys in Carceri, more specially the swamp at the edge of Trevvan. Next to her was the unconscious and chain bound form of Fiawa, and before her was the large Cambion named Malleus and two of his cohorts. One of them had a deep wound in its stomach, but thankfully the one she slashed across the eyes and throat was nowhere present. Kneeling close to her was the grinning elven form of Oberon leaning against Kelvan's golden blade. Amirah attempted to change into her wind form and slam into his smirking face, but found her power even more restrained than before.

"Save your struggles my dear, those are shifter shackles," smiled the golden face Tulani. "A curiosity I found on the prime planes during the wretched exile you brought on me."

"Your cowardice brought this on yourself, "spat Amirah weakly. Her body ached, specifically her ribs. She guessed Oberon and his half demons worked her over pretty good when she lost consciousness.

Oberon looked surprised at his captive before laughing loudly," Look at this Malleus! Such spirit! Even beaten and bound, she still taunts me!" The large Cambion simply grunted at his statement, before Oberon unleashed a furious barrage of kicks to Amirah's stomach and ribs.

After she was properly subdued again, Oberon knelt next to his beaten foe and kissed her red hair lightly. "You know Amirah, things could have been so different between you and I. I actually desired your beauty once, even followed you on your foolish crusade into the lower planes, but you only had eyes for that Kelvan fool. I would have forgiven you after Kelvan died, but you and that bitch Fiawa betrayed me with your lies before the entire council to see."

"Shunned and a laughing stock, I began a regrettable spiral decline. I wasted my family fortunes seeking solace throughout the planes, be it on women, drugs, or some unique sensuous thrill. All the time however, I plotted the revenge on the pair of you, but I was too weak to carry it out."

Malleus grunted at the statement. Oberon turned fiercely at the Cambion but retreated from the half demon's gaze.

"Your dog's are on a long leash it seems," panted Amirah through her pain.

Oberon's angelic visage darkened and he raised his hand to strike her. Sensing that she was simply goading him he lowered his hand and continued his tale. "As I sank lower and lower, I happened on a chance encounter with a…..let's say a unique…..lost soul. It had the resources, power, and wealth I crave, and in return all I had to do was run some minor errands and provide it with some privy information on Arborea."

"You…you betrayed our people?" gasped Amirah in surprise. Such a thing was unheard of , even a fallen Eladrin would never do such a dark deed.

"I did not betray anyone. If anything, they betrayed me when they believed you and your big fat friend's words over mine," huffed Oberon defensively.

Amirah closed her eyes and lowered her head as Oberon continued. " All my patron wanted was a certain skull kept in the Arborean Archives. The other junk and flotsam my minions retrieved was simply to mask our intentions. "

"Vile…horn?" asked Amirah as a twinge of fear washed over her . She wasn't a necromancer, but could guess the dark rituals that required the skull of a powerful Balor.

"Very perceptive my dear, but it shouldn't surprise me since the pair of you did track me down to Trevvan. By the way, it was never my intention to capture the pair of you, but when I heard a pair of Eladrin were asking around about my activities I was quick to lay an ambush. Imagine my surprise when I found out the two Eladrin that cursed me into exile were walking into my trap. Who better to defeat an Eladrin , than another Eladrin, especially since I know all your weaknesses and limitations; powdered cold iron to nullify your flight, and binding chains to gag and shut Fiawa's musical powers. The Cambions here were minions provided to me by my patron. Deadly opponents, but no match for you I'm afraid. They were lucky I intervened when I did."

Another harsher grunt came from behind, but Oberon simply smiled at Malleus's discomfort to his insult.

"Now, under other circumstances, I would exact my darkest desires and revenge on the pair of you. I would ravish your bodies and break your spirits before sealing your fates. Since I am on a tight schedule from my patron, regrettably I have to skip directly to sealing your final fates. "

Oberon turned to the Cambion with the wounded stomach and pointed at the still prone Fiawa. The ebon skinned demon walked to the Lillend and began surgically slicing at her beautiful feathered wings. Amirah gasped in shock, but Oberon placed a finger to her lips.

"Fear not, she'll keep her wings to remind her that she used to be able to fly. My servant here is simply cutting her tendons to make them useless," he taunted.

The Cambion then retrieved a sealed pot that seemed to shaking by itself. It opened the canvas the lid and plunged its hands into a dark liquid, and pulled a squirming fist sized tadpole like creature out. Her encyclopedic knowledge of the planes told Amirah that it was a Hezrou spawn. The vile toad demons would lay thousands of eggs, which would hatch into hungry fiendish tadpoles that promptly devoured each other. They were short lived creatures, and only the strongest grew into a full sized demon, but woe to anything that got in the way of their feeding frenzy. Besides spawning new Hezrou, demons were known to use the tadpoles in gory arena spectacles and to maim prisoners horribly.

As the Cambion approached Fiawa's unconscious face with the squirming tadpole , Amirah turned to Oberon." Please, not this. This is too cruel," she pleaded.

The Tulani lord simply slapped her in the face, before yanking her crimson hair and making her watch the spectacle. Tears streaked from Amirah's face as she watched the demon stuff the vile fist sized tadpole into Fiawa's mouth. The Lillend snapped instantly awake as she choked and thrashed helplessly in her bonds before collapsing into a hoarse weeping heap.

"Don't worry, the little demon in her is dead. They don't live that long after all, but sadly I'm afraid your friend's lovely voice is forever gone now. Even a skilled cleric couldn't heal that wound," laughed Oberon. "A vain creature such as herself shall enjoy her new voice I think, she seemed so proud of it. That is if she survives the flesh markets of Trevvan. I'm sure some rich demon or tiefling would pay good coin to add her to his harem," laughed Oberon.

"And as for you my dear Amirah. I thought long and hard about your punishment. I'm guessing since you've been a Huntsman for so long even after Kelvan died, that you are attracted to fame and valor. Well, luckily for us the River Styx runs into this swamp. I'm sure you of all people know that those immersed in its deadly waters not only forget their memories, but eventually others forget them as well. It's as if they never even existed. A fitting end to such a glory hound as yourself I think. I can't wait for the opportunity to finally rid myself of your accursed memory."

Amirah wanted to protest. As her end neared, she realized she only continued as a Huntsman to honor fallen Kelvan, and on the off chance she could encounter that certain tiefling again. She wanted to say this, but was too heartbroken about poor Fiawa to voice her opinion.

Proud of his actions, Oberon placed a necklace and firmly cinched it around Amirah's neck. " Another bauble from the Prime planes, called a Necklace of Adaptaion. It allows the wearer to survive the harshest of climates and environments. Even survive on the Elemental plane of fire if you can believe it. Normally the lethal waters of the Styx would not only drain your memories but dissolve your body as well, but this little necklace will prevent the second part. Given your immortal soul, I'm afraid you will suffer an eternity of being a blank slate in the Styx. No one will remember you , no will care. Despite your deeds, you will be nothing but a forgettable footnote in history. Not even poor Fiawa here will remember anything. She might recall odd gaps in her memory, but I'm afraid she'll be too busy being some demon satrap's plaything to care. Perhaps a rare denizen of the swamps, one of those Charnoloths or some lost Obryith horror will find and devour you, but by that time no one will care about you anymore, least of all myself. Goodbye Amirah, such is the price you pay for spurning my affections and betraying me."

How could it come to this? Amirah couldn't believe her decline had come so suddenly and so fast. She wanted to scream but was too drained and battered to do so. As a Huntsman of Arborea, she knew that victory would not always be hers. She was fully prepared to die in combat against the Demon hordes, but this was not the end she wanted. She felt she had let down Kelvan's memory and failed poor Fiawa. As she faced an eternity of oblivion, she felt the raw emptiness of her life and the deep regret of never finding one that could fill that void.

Oberon simply nudged Amirah's body overboard, and her body was quickly swallowed by the murky waters of the Styx. "Well now that we're rid of…whats her face…..let's say we make a quick stop at the slave markets before heading to the Gray wastes and finishing our business?" beamed the victorious Oberon.


	8. Chapter 8

Reinhardt visualized the battle, the girl, and the kiss. He had done this a thousand times before and wrote down his thoughts, but today he had trouble remembering the girl, which was odd since he clearly remembered the battle and the kiss. He shook his head and concentrated, and was pleased of the calming image that formed in his head. Amirah the warrior Assimar elf with long red hair wearing a veil. Her thin athletic body adorned with flowing crimson cloths and silks. She had large expressive eyes, high cheek bones, and flawless pale skin and wielded a scimitar with deadly precision. The image lingered in his mind, calming the shifted Ice Devil's thoughts like it had a thousand times before, but inexplicably it began to slip away. Quickly he began to organize the words as they came to him before he lost the image in his thoughts.

He had the poem in his head and attempted to jot them down but a bump in the semi submerged road foiled his writing, and his thoughts slipped away. Frowning he put away his journal and concentrated on the road ahead.

"Maybe I should hire a driver, " he thought as he guided his stench kows that pulled his oversized shell shaped covered wagon.

The abyssal cattle released the occasional cloud of flatulence as they trudged relentlessly though the muck. Four red trolls, armored in mail surrounded the cart as they made their way through the marsh. The mildly acidic swamp was slowly eating away at his wheels and servants, but he was confident they would reach Trevvan with his load of imported wares from Axis before they rotted away.

Reinhardt always enjoyed it when he visited Trevvan. There was always something going on, and the people were remarkably friendly given where they were. While trading wasn't his primary profession, he always made more than enough jink when he passed through this particular fade town. Whether it was to act as an overpaid tout, a guide to some clueless cutters, or even to set up a lucrative business deal, there was always money to be had there. Not that money was ever his primary goal, but the faux tiefling was certainly good at earning it.

After his forced exile from the Baatorian Legions, Reinhardt had struck out as an independent businessman that specialized in Lower planar ventures. He was wary at first, suspecting he would end up as some high powered bandit that terrorized lost souls to scrounge a living, but given his vast knowledge of the area, he quickly made a small fortune for himself. What was more surprising was that all of his wealth was achieved with little to no violence involved directly on his part. The shifted Ice devil was certainly amongst the upper echelon of heavy hitters but he mainly survived and prospered on his wits and magic alone. The lower planes were still dangerous and he still required sentries and guards to keep watch out for his interests, but he avoided direct confrontation when possible.

As Reinhardt approached the circular shaped town, the acrid smell of rotting death plants and the steaming tepid swamps that festered next to the Styx ,filled him with nostalgia. He was reminded of the frozen marshes of Stygia save for the fact that the temperature was borderline tropical here during the day, but they did plunge at night. Not that Reinhardt minded since he was immune to both fire and ice, but it did seem to distract his current bodyguards as they made their way to the Trevvan.

"Oww, " complained Bragi as he swatted a nasty looking demon fly off his shoulder. "Stoopid bugs….." Reinhardt smiled at the irony of the statement. While Bragi was considered his brightest troll, that wasn't saying much. That was like picking one rock out of four and calling it your smartest rock. The fiendish troll was naturally warded to minor levels of acid and flame, but was still vulnerable to the numerous insects that crawled here. Reinhardt himself was unaffected since he radiated a chilling aura around him that repelled the hellish bugs, but even if didn't he had several minor magics protecting him from harm.

"Don't worry Bragi, soon we'll be in Trevvan, and we'll enjoy the hospitality of the tieflings there," exclaimed Reinhardt. Since his exile ten years ago, he had embraced his 'disguise' whole heartedly. Besides looking like a tiefling, he adopted many of their mannerisms, and actually gave generously to support his 'people'. For their part, most tieflings accepted him as one of their own , welcomed his patronage and many even looked at him as some sort of role model. He was one of the boyz that had done good in their books. Reinhardt didn't mind the role, since he felt some pity for the miserable race. They had been trampled on by other races since the day demons met mortals, and he felt honored to be a flag bearer for this hybrid outcast people.

As they drew nearer to their destination, several masked men emerged suddenly from the swamp and blocked their path. One of the stench kows pulling his cart sprayed some green snot ahead, but the rest remained calm. Even though their features were obscured, Reinhardt noticed odd bumps and hunches on the bandits, marking them as most likely tieflings. He also heard some of them telepathically nearby, but he wasn't skilled enough to pin point their locations by just their thoughts. He assumed this was a simple shake down and he hoped to talk them down instead of resorting to violence. While he certainly favored his adoptive 'people' he was the first to recognize that rampant poverty and social injustice bred bandits and thieves, and given the fact that these bandits were attempting to rob a cart guarded by four fiendish trolls, they must have been very desperate or very brave indeed.

"Toll collectors guvunor, give us all yer jink, " joked one of the bandits as he raised his makeshift crossbow towards Reinhardt. Reinhardt noticed the weapon's stock was in two pieces and was held together by soiled looking cloth strips. He shook his head at the improvised weapon, and wondered if it even worked.

The trolls seemed confused, and Bragi even stuck out his tongue as he attempted to search for change in his pockets to comply with the bandit's demand. There was a reason that trolls were noted for their ferocity, and not their cunning.

Reinhardt scanned for their leader, and hoped a simple suggestion spell would diffuse the situation and let them pass. "I thought Trevvan was pretty prosperous. There's no need to rob merchants is there?"

One of the masked bandits laughed. "We don't consider this robbing. We consider this as income supplementing through social redistribution. A voluntary gift so to speak for the less fortunate."

Reinhardt wasn't sure if the bandit that spoke was their leader or not, but considered him the best person to charm. However as soon as he began invoking his spell, screams broke through the swamp.

Troll and bandit alike were thrown into a panic as a massive winged gargoyle covered with great spiked horns flew up above. It wielded a massive chain that it twirled over his head effortlessly, lashing it out occasionally to smash some poor hapless bandit below as it approached.

"Cornugon, " whispered Reinhardt as he prepared his defensive spells for the approaching Horned Devil.

After he left Stygia, he was beset several times by Baatorian assassins. They were laughably incompetent or inexperienced, and Reinhardt just assumed that either Fierna or Belial was sending them simply for show. A demonstration of power to their subordinates that showed that they would not be trifled with, while also rewarding Reinhardt for defeating Naome in the past. Reinhardt wasn't sure which of the rulers saw Naome's death as a blessing but didn't question his good luck. Of course there were always independent bounty hunters that came after him, but most either couldn't find him or were as weak as the token assassins sent before. A Cornugon or Horned Devil however was a completely different matter. Depending on whom you asked, in the hierarchy of the pit the gargoyle like Cornugons were considered second or third after the mighty Pitfiends in raw power. Ice Devils like Reinhardt used to occupy that role, but their hapless cousins rose quickly through the ranks of Baator to challenge them for that position. While there was no questioning their raw power, Reinhardt thought his own race was more versatile and cunning. Reinhardt wasn't sure if this particular devil was targeting him or it was just a random attack by a devil that lost his mind from drinking too much of the Stygian waters. Whatever the case, the creature was definitely looking for a fight.

The remaining tiefling bandits scattered, and Reinhardt noted there were roughly eight of them left. A sad number of bandits really, and he guessed they relied on their opponents to knuckle under their intimidation. The Cornugon however didn't seem to care, as it chose a tiefling carefully before landing on it with its cruel hooked talons.

Bragi looked dumbfounded initially, but the other three trolls charged the monster right away. Reinhardt knew the three were hopelessly outmatched and tried to call them back, but the troll's bloodlust proved to be too much as they rushed their opponent. The Cornugon lashed its chain at the Tragi, the fastest troll and tripped it mercilessly into the swamp. The other two however tackled the monster in the midsection and sent it crashing into some large fern like plant that cracked from the force of the blow.

Reinhardt prepared an orb of ice but his shot was blocked. While most of the tieflings scattered, one hopped on Reinhart's cart with crossbow in hand and obscured his line of sight. "Get off now! " he demanded as he waved his weapon menacingly.

Reinhardt began to protest , but the bandit simply shot him at point blank with the makeshift weapon. Despite the quality of the weapon, the barbed bolt pierced his minor protection spells and embedded itself in his stomach. Reinhardt grunted from the shot but mainly frowned at the normally lethal blow. He lacked his magical skin in his tiefling form, but his supernatural regeneration rendered most wounds harmless. Specialized attacks such as blessed weapons could penetrate both his enchanted skin and nullify his regeneration, but most denizens of the lower planes did not carry such devices unless of course they were demon hunters,crusaders, or had access to a paladin or cleric like Reinhardt once did. His regeneration was so powerful, that he could reform his entire body in a few hours as long as some element of his central core remained, typically his heart or head. Few people knew of this particular skill, and Reinhardt used it to full effect sometimes by playing dead when attacked, and then either catching his foe by surprise or fleeing when he recovered.

Before the bandit could reload his weapon and fire another futile salvo, Bragi reached his great scaled claw and plucked the tiefling's head off. Reinhardt briefly salivated since he hadn't had a crunchy skull to gnaw on for quite a while , but thoughts of dinner vanished when the sound of trumpets filled the air.

Reinhardt sighed as he recognized the sound, the Knights of the Red Dog, a band of Primer do gooders that patrolled the upper reaches of the lower planes for obvious fiendish monsters. The chant was they were remarkably tolerant as priests and paladins go, but he always feared they would see through his guise and attack him. He didn't realize there was a chapter here but he guessed it wouldn't be surprising since they have been popping up in the major trade centers recently.

The Cornugon in the meantime, had torn through both his troll attackers with his clawed hands and seemed to hesitate at the trumpet sound . For a brief second, Reinhardt thought he recognized the fellow, and wondered if it was a creature he had dealings with in the Legion. He was normally pretty good with names and faces, but admitted he didn't recognize this particular fellow on closer inspection. The Horned Devil however took to the air and fled, even as a pair of dragon riders came into view overhead.

As the Horned Devil flew away, Reinhardt thought the whole encounter seemed odd. It definitely looked like a Cornugon, and it fought as fiercely as one too, but it didn't seem to carry itself with a Cornugon's pride , or have the distinct swagger that belonged to that elite Baatorian caste. It had fled immediately as soon as it saw the knights on the red dragons approach.

Red dragons were rare on the outer planes save for Tiamat's realm in Avernus. The greatest of the scaled beasts were more than a match for any Balor or Pitfiend, but the two that approached them were much smaller than that. Still given their leaned muscular frames, martial discipline and that they had knights or clerics riding them, that made them dangerous foes that Reinhardt knew he had to take caution around.

"Dem dragon boyz gonna fight us? " asked Bragi nervously as he helped Tragi out of the muck.

Reinhardt shrugged, he wasn't exactly sure if they were to be attacked next, but the dragon riders seemed content to simply circle them and guided them into town.

Reinhardt didn't mind the escort but he frowned at his two slain trolls. He guessed the Cornugon used fire or simply dipped their corpses into the acidic swamp to stop their regeneration, but the bottom line was that two of his guards were dead. Bragi and Tragi didn't seem to mind the passing of their fellows, since violence and death were a key component of what little passed for Troll culture. Though Reinhardt didn't technically need guards, they were loyal and did help him maintain his guise and keep his goods and his business private. Good help was so hard to find these days.

Reinhardt began grumbling at the hassle of replacing Bragi's fallen comrades, but smiled broadly when he saw a sign written in both the Infernal and Abyssal tongue near the town's gates.

"Slave auction today. Cash only. No Credit. Larvae welcome."

* * *

Reinhardt filed a report with what passed for tiefling guards about the two separate attacks, and paid his tariff and trade dues. Reinhardt then contacted his agent in town to offload his goods from his cart and left Tragi to oversee the mundane operation. He made it a point that he was in a hurry since there was a slave auction, and he was determined not to miss any of the bidding action.

He knew he should have finished his business and errands first, but slave auctions were one of the few things that gave his life meaning these days. The accumulation of wealth was nice, but he found the whole pursuit pointless unless there was something to spend it on. He wasn't into raising an army, or lavishing himself with luxurious goods, but he did like buying slaves and he spent a considerable amount of his fortune on purchasing them.

Reinhardt chuckled at the rumors that swirled around him and his slaves. Some say he kept a vast harem of pretty celestials and mortals in a secret lair where they served his every whim. Others say he devoured them in an attempt to gain their souls and power. The truth however, was a lot less exciting. Reinhardt typically bought slaves that looked out of place or particularly miserable, something that was way too common unfortunately. The bulk of his purchases were generally mortals that had been caught by raiding fiends, or some crusading planetouched adventurers like Assimars or half celestials, but he had purchased extremely exotic finds in the past. Amongst his more unique transactions, he had purchased a coutal, a feathered serpent, and even a cloud giant maiden once. He would shy away from obviously powerful fiends though, since they were often hard to handle and had attacked him on some of his earlier purchases, but even then he had bought one or two of them in the past. Unless they attacked him, Reinhardt liked to question them about their past, where they came from, and how they got where they were, and keep their information in his journal. Later he would give them a few coins and released them on the Concordant plane, but he often did it in secret to maintain his reputation. Some stayed and worked for him for a while as an honorable way to repay their debts, Bragi and his brothers for example were purchased six months ago that had pledged their loyalty to him. Reinhardt didn't really care either way though; the act of releasing them and making it their choice was enough for him.

A part of him wondered why he freed so many of them. Was he really progressive and merciful, since he was simply enabling the slave system by purchasing their wares? Was he on some ego trip, acting like some kind of benevolent god to pathetic prisoners he bought like cattle? Or maybe he liked to fool people? Watching people praise you for your humanity and hiding the fact you are a giant sentient insect was both amusing and ironic he thought. In the beginning he was motivated to buying them to seek out information on a certain Assimar, but sixty years of dead ends and silence taught him to move on. Now he did it to give his life some meaning, regardless of how selfish his base motivations actually were.

As Reinhardt was contemplating the reasons he enjoyed his hobby, Bragi pushed his way through the milling crowds to give him a look at the merchandise. The auctioneer was a fast speaking Corruptor, a classic devil with short horns and bright red skin that had a penchant for talk. An exiled infernal like himself, though Reinhardt suspected he probably left the Legions through desertion. Next to him was what appeared to be a succubus assistant, a comely blond haired demoness complete with bat wings, long tail, and small horns. She was fashionably wearing almost nothing as she held a clip board next to her bosom. Just by looking at her though, Reinhardt could tell it was actually an Alu fiend that was dressed to look like a succubus, presumably to give the auction some class. The main auctioneer recognized Reinhardt and gave him a respectful bow, before launching his spiel to the rest of the tieflings and other bidders.

"Alright folks welcome to the auction. These are the rules of the slave auction, this is a cash only sale. Gold .astral diamond and larvae preferred, no credit or raw souls. All sales are final, we are going to reveal each cage unit and you can take a look, you have five minutes to do so before we bid. You cannot go inside the cage to look, you cannot touch the slaves. We are going to sell this to the highest cash bidder, are you ready to go? Yeah ! let's go! "declared the enthusiastic Corruptor devil as the alu fiend encouraged the crowd.

Reinhardt had heard this spiel many times in the past, but Bragi seemed particularly excited. He had taught the troll enough to not accidently bid, but that was the least of his worries. Besides the throngs of tieflings that just wanted to purchase additional labor or perhaps a wife, he spotted a particularly obese Shator Demodand that had a reputation of ruthless bidding, muscling its way to the front. Reinhardt heard this wrinkled walking slug creature ran an arena on the lower levels of Carceri and was always interested in fresh gladiators. He also saw a pair of Yugoloths, mercenary demons, hanging out in the back. One was a Yagnaloth noble, the lizard looking daemons with the one oversized scaly right arm matched with a normal sized left one, and his Piscoloth servant, basically a lobster man daemon. Reinhardt suspected that those two would have the most gold, and figured he would have to bid aggressively if he was to have any chance to buy any slaves.

The first unit was an interesting lot. It was full of ten shaggy goblinoids. Some were standing, but most were sitting or lying down. They looked like warriors and Reinhardt needed some new guards, but he also saw that some had festering wounds and wasn't interested.

"Bug bears…" smiled Bragi as he pointed at them.

Reinhardt scratched his head. At first he thought the troll had no idea what he was talking about, but he also heard some of the other bidders mention that name and was intrigued. They certainly didn't look like bugs or bears and he was curious on how they got their name.

Despite his renewed interest in the lot, his competition also wanted these 'bug bears'. The fat Shator kept gulping air and made strange 'Yuuppp' noises to bid, while the big Yagnaloth simply raised his massive hand to signal to the auctioneer. In the end the Yagnaloth won to the cheers of the crowd, and shouted at the Shator, " That's what I'm talking about. I love to gamble!"

Reinhardt shrugged and awaited for the next lot. When it was revealed, he saw it was some strange half dark elf half scorpion creature, that the auctioneer called a Scorrow. It was heavily scarred but appeared healthy enough to snap its claws at the bidders menacingly. While Reinhardt's knowledge of the outerplanes was second to none, he was baffled by this oddity. He guessed it was from one of the Prime planes, but he honestly had no clue of what it was. It did have an insect lower body though, and decided to buy it, but once again the fat Shaator kept outbidding him with his annoying 'Yuuuupp' noises.

Reinhardt pushed the bid to make him over pay for this creature, but the Shaator seemed pleased with itself when it had won.

"Some merchant made you overpay you dumb amateur, " the Yagnaloth commented.

The Shator simply returned a toothy grin and raised its long arms into the air in celebration. "The hands of gold always make a profit," it boasted first towards the Yagnaloth, then waved them disrespectfully in front of Reinhardt.

Bragi snarled, and Reinhardt considered sic'ing the troll on the slug, but he motioned his bodyguard down. Shators were relatively rare denizens of the dark planes, but Reinhardt knew that they were amongst the most powerful despite their fat appearance. Not that he couldn't take it down if he wanted to, but he rather settle this like a businessman.

The third lot however caught them all by surprise. The red skinned auctioneer revealed it to the gasps of the crowd. It was a rare Lillend, a creature that was part snake, part elf, and part bird; an Eladrin from Arborea that was famed for its artistic abilities. From its bindings and the way its wings drooped, Reinhard guessed that it put up quite a fight before it was captured and was probably still injured. Despite this Reinhardt definitely wanted to buy this creature. He thought she might give him a few pointers on his false starts at attempting poetry, before he would eventually let it go.

"Bragi loves pretty snake elf…." Drooled the troll as he was blinded by her beauty.

The other bidders seemed to take an active interest in this captured celestial as well. What was a more fitting prize for a lower planar noble than this beautiful and exquisite creature. Reinhardt wonder if the winner would place her in a harem , or simply cook her and sample its rare and exotic flesh. Reinhardt never had Lillend before and salivated at that prospect.

The Lillend seemed dazed at first, but suddenly backed away fearfully as it noticed the fiendish horde leering and drooling at her. It began to weep, but oddly it made horrible deep gulping noises instead of the timid gasps and moans everyone expected. Reinhardt and the others began to wonder if this creature really was a Lillend and reconsidered his bidding strategy when to his surprise the creature stopped and stared at him. It locked gazes with him and looked at him in both shock and disbelief before it sprang towards the cage towards him.

"I know you, " it said in her foul gulping voice.

Reinhardt shook his head, "Sorry, but I've never you before. " He had heard similar pathetic lamentations of slaves before and wouldn't be taken in by their tears. He guessed she rather have a relatively normal looking humanoid buy her instead of a monster like the Shator or the Yagnaloth lord, something that Reinhardt wouldn't mind obliging but sadly he did not have the funds for it

"Your…your name is Reinhardt," it croaked.

The shifted Ice Devil stopped and blinked, mirroring her previous reaction to him.

"I've met you…I've met you before briefly when you slew Vilehorn …I was with Kelvan and his Celestials in the Field of Nettles, in Ribcracker chasm," the Lillend continued its gulping voice getting weaker from the strain.

Reinhardt's frozen heart was beating in a way he had never experienced outside of a fight to the death. He pounded his chest a few times to attempt to calm it but to no avail. He walked up to the Lillend creature and grasped the bars of the cage.

"Hey….Yuuppp…don't you know the rules! No….Yuuuppp….. touching the merchandise! " growled the Shator. It long hands gripped Reinhardt's shoulders, and squeezed with a monstrous grip. Reinhardt glanced back at Bragi, not the Shator, and he gave the troll a ' back off, I will handle this personally' look.

"Let go of me," Reinhardt warned with a chilling voice, even as the bones in his shoulders began to crack.

"Oh…or …Yuuppp….. what…." Began the demodand, but he was quickly cut short.

Reinhardt placed his other hand on the monster's hand and channeled his frozen magic through it. The Shator's long hand and arm grew stiff, then white, then it was covered in a sheet of ice. It fell back in panic, waving the frozen appendage randomly when it realized what had happened. "Yuup! Yuuupp! " it shouted.

The Yagnaloth seemed pleased at his rival's discomfort and shot out his massive arm towards him, "Here let me give you a hand! " it laughed, as its monstrous lizard hand bumped into the Shator's frozen limb, shattering it in an explosion of grey and red frozen pieces.

"Oopps…" apologized the Yagnaloth as the Shator slithered from the auction screaming in pain . The lizard mercenary then turned and gave Reinhardt a wink, signifying it wouldn't bid against him. Both the auctioneer and alu fiend seemed shocked at the turn of events, but made no motion to stop Reinhardt. The Ice Devil nodded and resumed his conversation with the Lillend.

"There was an Assimar, we fought together against the Balor. Do you know her?" he asked as his voice began to break.

The Lillend stopped and her face fell into a look of utter defeat. "That's the problem. I ..I can't remember her," it said as it made horrible gulping weeping noises. Tears of sorrow flowed freely.

Reinhardt couldn't believe this as he shook his head. "What do you mean you can't remember? Red head with a golden scimitar, moves like shes constantly dancing. Goes by the name of Amirah."

The Lillend stopped at the name and looked at Reinhardt, "A..Amirah? " it croaked, before a blank expression fell on her face again. "Yes that's her name…wait…what are we talking about again?"

Reinhardt threw up his hands in frustration. He winced at his crushed shoulder, but could already feel the bones mending from his regenerative powers. Though he was frustrated by this Celestial before him, he did feel good knowing that Shators can't regenerate.

"How can you not remember? You remember me, but you can't remember her? Are you on lotus powder? " demanded Reinhardt, trying to control his rage.

"I'm …I'm sorry.. I can't remember my friend, or I think she's my friend…..I remember everything, but I can't remember her at all…..you see…they threw her in the Styx," wept the Lillend.

Reinhardt stopped and turned to the auctioneer. "I'm buying her now," he stated as he ripped the bars apart with his hands.

The auctioneer and most of the assembled bidders gasped at the show of power, and made no attempt to stop the white skinned tiefling, his troll, or the Lillend they escorted. Reinhardt threw a bag of coins at the Alu fiend which promptly caught it, and then checked it off on her clip board.

The Yagnaloth however didn't seem impressed and simply sniffed at them as they passed, "Big deal. I got bug bears."


	9. Chapter 9

"Amirah Froststorm"

"Amirah Froststorm"

"Amirah Froststorm"

She chanted her name like a mantra even as the cold water embraced and swallowed her. It didn't take long till she hit the bottom of the murky water and began sinking into the silt and ooze. She was the speed, the wind, the hurricane, but with her hands and legs shackled, she was powerless to do anything but struggle and sink into the muck. She had already tried to scream and let the water drown her, but that damn necklace was keeping her alive. All she could do was keep calm and try to retain any sense of self she had left.

"Amirah Froststorm"

"Amirah Frosts.."

"Amirah F.."

Bits and pieces of her life flashed before her as the darkness embraced her. Her carefree young life in the wilderness of Arborea. The attentions of a score of handsome Eladrin suitors. The wisdom of her father teaching her the sword and the bow. The tense feelings of her first victorious battle against demons. Her first love when she met the handsome hero Kelvan. Her joy at being accepted in his band. The warm glow she felt whenever he gently teased her by calling her 'Firestorm'. She felt them slip away and she desperately tried to clutch them before they completely faded.

Despite slowly losing her memories, she oddly retained a detached knowledge of everything. Her decades of hunting demons and then being an Arborean Huntsman taught her that the River Styx was draining her sense of self, her sense of being Amirah. Obero….Ober….the Tulani noble threw her in the murky waters of the dark river to erase not only her memory, but everyone else's memory of her. Soon it would have been if she had not existed, all her friends and comrades would forget about her, all her deeds would go unnoticed, her name a simple overlooked footnote in the history of Arborea.

As the bright spots of her life dimmed in her mind, the ugly hurtful ones bubbled up to the surface. The first time she witnessed the horrors of demons invading her home. The sacrifice of her father while he defended Arborea against them. The spurned feeling when she realized Kelvan saw her no more as a comrade in battle. The despair when he was ripped apart by Vilehorn. Even these snippets of the dark times were valuable to her. She clawed at them and tried to drag them back to her before they too faded.

She knew that nothing could survive long in the dark river unprotected. The amulet that….Tulan..Tul…that Eladrin placed on her neck would prolong her suffering, but in the end she would be a mindless husk stuck for eternity in the mud of the Styx. Her warband would replace her. Her only friend Fiaw…Fi….the snake woman would forget about her. Even the Court of Stars would regard her simply as an empty name that served without any notable distinction. All her past heroics would be blown away like leaves in the wind.

"Amira…."

"Amir…."

"Am…"

Her light was almost extinguished now. She couldn't even remember her name now. The agonies of a lifetime of regrets were painfully revealed to her, now that her soul was stripped bare. She wanted to have known her father better before he died. There were so many words unsaid between them. Kelv..Kel….the hero she never confessed her feelings to. The emptiness of never knowing truly if he felt the same about her. Fia…Fia…she always joked that the snake woman had left her, but that wasn't the case. It was the other way around. The snake woman continued her life while she was still lost in revenge. The realization of the loneliness of her existence, knowing she never really opened her heart to anyone.

"….."

"….."

"….."

There was nothing left now. Not only had the memory of her own life vanished but she could feel her existence vanish from the thoughts of others as well. The Court of Stars would replace her, another name to an endless list of forgotten soldiers. Her friend the snakewoman wouldn't be able to remember her name , face, or the time they shared. She could even feel the hatred of the Eladrin that put her here fade. His wrath for her fulfilled like a brief hunger would be satisfied with a piece of toast in the morning.

Her body seemed to have hit bottom and stopped sinking in the muck. All was gone now. Her personal thoughts were blank save for one small flame that still illuminated the darkness of her stolen memories. A kiss. A handsome white skinned stranger staring into her eyes. His eyes were cold, but they were alive with life. A single moment of passion decades ago, that felt more true and honest than anything else. She couldn't remember the man's name, but she did recall warning him to never meet again. It was another regret, but she embraced it none the less. It was the last thing she held onto in her murky tomb.

* * *

"Wait…you can't remember a thing?" asked Reinhardt with a growing annoyance in his voice. They were a fair distance away from the auction, but the faux tiefling could already feel eyes on his back. His little show of power was a bit over the top, and he knew it would hurt his business. People were more apt to doing business with a weak tiefling than a creature that could freeze and shatter a demodand's arm. It was bad enough that he used his power to cow the auctioneer and the other bidders to purchase the Lillend, but it was even worse now that she seemed to have forgotten everything she was recently babbling about.

"It hurts to talk more and more, my memory slipping away," croaked the Lillend named Fiawa. Reinhardt noted that her voice was getting progressively worse. "I sound like toad," she added sadly.

"Frog taste guud. Toad taste bettah . Bragi like winged snake elf's voice," said the troll earnestly. Despite his good intentions, Fiawa seemed to sink even deeper into despair.

Reinhardt noted even in her haggard state she was quite the beauty. She had exceptionally fine traits , even for one of her comely species. Not that he was moved by her appearance, but he had a good eye for humanoid flesh and judged her as if he would if he were buying or selling one of his stench kows. High full breasts, lean but not overly muscular stomach, jewel like scales, long multi colored feathers, and a fair fresh face that was framed by incredibly curly shoulder length blond hair. He disliked the hassle of selling slaves, but he figured he would get a high price for her if he cut out her tongue and then sold her back. Not here in Trevvan though, he was pretty sure he burned the bridges here with the local slave market when he rescued this pixish looking Lillend.

Reinhardt stopped as he examined her features. "Wait. I know you. You were that little rainbow winged creature in Ribcracker chasm. A courre Azata I believe. I didn't think your people changed physically when you move up in ranks like we….errr ummm I mean devils are capable of."

Fiawa nodded but was cautious to speak. He then spotted Reinhardt's journal at his side and pointed at it excitedly. Reinhardt was hesitant to give her his journal, not only was it an expensive minor magical item that could hold volumes like a bag of holding, but it held his collected personal and more importantly private thoughts within. Fiawa pointed at it again and Reinhardt finally relented. He flipped his journal to the middle though well away from his own notes, and handed it to her with a quill.

She scribbled in the journal quickly and showed it to him. "I was there when Vilehorn died. I saw you slay him with my comrade whom I now can't remember."

Reinhardt was impressed with her penmanship and considered keeping her as a scribe. After all he did pay for her. "Ami..Amir...err…Amirah was her name. Write that down," he said as he found it hard to remember her name.

Fiawa did as she was told."It is remarkable you still remember her name." Reinhardt noted that a lot of her confidence returned when she didn't have to use her gulping frog voice, and she looked even more beautiful because of it. He would definitely consider chopping her tongue off if he was looking to resell her.

"I was the Archivist of Arborea, and several items were stolen recently stolen," Fiawa began to write then paused. Reinhardt saw that she had to physically go back and examine the name she had just written before she could continue. "Amirah and I set after the thieves and tracked them to Trevvan. We were then ambushed by a fallen Tulani noble named Oberon and his Cambions in the slums. I was out cold most of the time, but I awoke when they forced fed me the Hezrou tadpole that stole my voice. My companion was then kicked into the river Styx, which is the reason it's so hard to remember anything about him. "

Reinhardt frowned.

Hezrou tadpoles were considered delicacies in the lower planes. Reinhardt had a few in the cart to impress rich clients, but he considered their flesh too rich and salty for regular meals. He heard that celestial creatures reacted violently to them, but didn't know they could strip their voices away. He filed that little bit of new information away just in case a situation like that would arise in the future.

The river Styx he was well informed on. Growing up in Stygia, centuries of the warfare in the Bloodwars, specifically on the river bound Field of Nettles, and his fame in naval raids against the Abyss made him an expert on the subject. The river was an ancient thorough fare that ferried the souls of the dead to their respective afterlifes. It runs through the upper levels of all the lower planes and had many tributaries that reached into darker more dangerous areas like Reinhardt's native Stygia. It's waters were lethal and they did indeed drain the memories of all who came into contact with them. Certain creatures were immune to this effect, but most were either vicious predators or mad and insane.

He had also heard of this Oberon character. The chant was that he was ousted from the Court of Stars due to cowardice, but the dark was even more sinister. The fallen Tulani was known to be seeking alliances with darker powers to restore his position and wealth. He was mostly unsuccessfully, but there were rumors he was being courted by Grazzt himself, the ebon lord of the Abyss.

"I have to go back to Arborea to warn them. I don't know what Oberon is doing, but he's up to no good I'm sure. As for," Fiawa paused as she examined the name again before continuing to write, " Amirah. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. I'm sure you know that short term exposure to the Styx is deadly, long term is death."

Reinhardt was speechless. He didn't mind returning this creature back to her realm, he was sure he could get a reward or something for her, but the thought of abandoning Amirah now was too much for him to bear. He had searched sixty years for her, and then to find her a day too late, it was too much to bear. "I'll return you to your people after I recover what's left of her. I need you to point out where they threw her in the water."

Fiawa looked shocked at his command. She started to write something down as if in protest then considered it and scratched it out. "I apologize. I don't know what history you shared or what she meant to you, but I understand. She came to Trevvan to help me, so I guess she was a friend. She probably meant a lot to me , but somehow I've forgotten while you still remember," she wrote and gave Reinhardt a sad nod.

* * *

After making sure Tragi didn't do anything stupid with his cart, like attempting to eat it, it didn't take long for Reinhardt to rent a raft. While Fiawa was unconscious for most of her imprisonment, her direction sense was good enough to find the place where she was awaken and her voice destroyed. Reinhardt guessed that she was a scout for the Arborean Huntsmen at one point, and she did her job well.

"Here it is. I recognize that patch of death trees," wrote the Lillend as she looked blankly around at the swamp. Reinhardt noted that she attempted to look sad or distraught, but couldn't summon a genuine emotion. It was hard to care for someone you didn't even know or have trouble remembering.

Reinhardt on the other hand felt shattered inside. He was still tearing himself inside for being a day late. He didn't realize Ami..Amirah meant so much to him till now, and thought that his search was over a long time ago. After all they only met for a few minutes. Fought side by side and shared one kiss. It was stupid actually. While he never kissed, say Yamon the Narzugon, he had fought with him for centuries before his death at the hands of Vilehorn's horde. He had no real feelings for him other than the occasional moment of nostalgia. Perhaps it wasn't the Assimar, but the concept of the Assimar that appealed to him so much. He was a greater devil and she was a minor plane touched outsider. Two opposites that shared a moment that they could never share again. Baatorian poetry was filled with similar 'forbidden fruit' themes, and maybe he was caught up in it. But…the more Reinhardt thought about that the less he agreed. The Baatorian tales always ended in tragedy, or comedy from the Baatezu view of things, and his moment with Amirah was something …different for lack of a better word. Ella the human paladin noted that Reinhardt was strange to begin with, and said he even changed when they parted ways. Could that one moment of time, that one kiss actually transform him like some type of beast from a fairy tale? He didn't feel any different after their encounter. He even got a promotion in the brutal and competitive hierarchy of the great Pit after their meeting. If anything the brief time they shared propelled him to more violence as he was in the thick of things of the 'Great Reckoning'. Yet somehow, Reinhardt knew things had indeed changed. Maybe he wasn't reformed or redeemed or any of that other evangelical Celestial blabber, but he certainly did things different. His violence was tempered in battle when he showed mercy to his foes, his compassion was evident when he released the slaves he caught, and he even gained a sense of humor. He always used to bite the heads of his foes, but he rarely did that now. He certainly joked about it or considered it, but the instances where he actually did was getting less frequent. He wasn't sure what that meant, but at least he lost some weight. Even the situation he found himself in now was something he would never consider in the past. Besides retrieving the remains of Fiawa's forgotten friend, he was actually considering releasing her. He could imagine a Reyzenhart not so long ago that would have tortured the Lillend for such a suggestion.

Reinhardt's frozen heart sank as he stared into the dark waters. He saw a dim outline of his own reflection and wondered if this is what he wanted. He was an Ice Devil, not some pathetic tiefling wannabe that pined for a girl he didn't even know. He had been a general in hell, and he should have been raising an army in an attempt to restore his position. Instead he was mourning inside for someone that would soon vanish from his memory. As he stared at the dim outline and accepted the fact that she was now gone, he realized that meeting Amirah was the best thing that ever happened to him, regardless of how short it was, and such a shining moment could indeed change one forever.

"Errr…is everything alright?" asked Fiawa in her horrid gulping voice. "You've been looking at that water for a few minutes now. You look troubled."

Reinhardt composed himself and fetched a grappling hook attached to a long chain. "It'll take a bit before I find her," he mumbled.

When he led the Thorn Legion, there were times that overzealous or overcrowded devils would fall off their war barges. If they were quick they could snag the body with a chain, like one would search for salvage. Depending on the duration of their comrades' dip underwater, the devils would celebrate by dividing the dead victims loot, or laugh at their partially mind wiped victim. Reinhardt guessed it would probably take several hours of trial and error before he drudged up Amirah's corpse, but he was determined not to leave till he had some proof of her demise.

After the third unsuccessful attempt, Bragi decided to take things into his own hands. "Dis take too long. Bragi find what youse lookin fer," declared the troll as he jumped into the water.

Reinhardt and Fiawa both shielded themselves from the splash as Bragi crashed into the dark waters.

"You idiot!" shouted Reinhardt expecting to see an unconscious troll sinking into the water.

"Bragi find body for master…Bragi….." the troll stopped mid-sentence as a dumber than normal look froze on his face.

Reinhardt paused and his heart jumped. The River Styx should have instantly wiped the trolls mind, but he was able to survive a few seconds unaffected. While one could argue Bragi was too thick headed to be affected immediately by the dark forgetful waters, it was more likely that the river was probably diluted here as it mixed with the brackish swamp water. If the water was diluted than that meant that Ami..Am…..what's her face …might not be fully absorbed yet. The more he thought about it the more it made sense, if she was truly gone, than he wouldn't have even remembered her.

Reinhardt wrapped the hook and chain around his waist, even as Fiawa was lassoing the slowly sinking form of the troll. "Give me a hand, " she croaked as she attempted to drag Bragi out.

Reinhardt ignored her. He intoned a brief spell and encased himself in a light coat of ice. Before it fully covered him he took a deep breath and dove into the water. The ice had to be thin enough to shield him but not so thick as to hamper his movements. The water of course would leak through the joints, but he hoped his robe would stop the flow before he was lost himself. It was a foolish and rash gamble, but at that point Reinhardt didn't care anymore. If he was wrong and to be forgotten as well, so be it.

* * *

"….."

"….."

"….."

She laid in the mud like a cold statue. She stopped struggling a while ago since her bonds made escape futile. With a detached apathy, she didn't know why she was there, or who put her there, but she did get a sense that she didn't belong there. She knew this was all wrong. She should be racing like the wind not wallowing underwater in the mud.

Her own mind was lost, and it seemed that those closest to her had forgotten as well. Even her sole remaining shred of existence that stubbornly refused to be extinguished was fading. The memory was from a kiss shared a lifetime ago. She didn't know why she kissed, or whom she kissed, but she did remember intense icy blue eyes. The memory comforted her.

She guessed the kiss must have meant a lot for whomever she shared it with to hold onto it so dearly. She wondered if she shared it with the great love of her life, or perhaps a forbidden but passionate lover. It was an interesting thought that warmed her last moments. To know that you were once loved was good enough for her as her mind drew blank. She knew that the amulet placed on her would keep her from truly dying but that meant little to a blank slate. Life without emotion or passion wasn't life at all.

* * *

She laid in the mud. No knowledge of the past. No care for the present. No hope for the future. Just a helpless prisoner in the sediment of the Styx. She guessed she had been there for maybe a day or two, but it didn't matter, she would be there for eternity. She felt no despair at the thought, and accepted it blankly.

She felt something grab her, first by the hand and then more forcefully by her hair. She half wondered if it was one of the rare denizens of the Styx that had found her and was about to end her, but instead she felt herself rising to the surface steadily.

It seemed impossible but she broke the surface of the darkwater, with a man covered in ice resembling some sort of frozen elemental , supporting her. A hunched red giant covered in lumps and a winged elf with a snake's torso were towing them with a chain, dragging them towards their barge.

"Are you crazy? You could have gotten yourself killed! " shouted the snake woman with a monstrous gulping voice.

"Durrr….Bragi….Durrr…Bragi….." babbled the giant as he gave a final mighty pull, which sent the ice covered man and her flying out of the water, crashing into the deck of the barge.

The ice fell off the man, revealing a well groomed tiefling with white skin and piercing blue eyes. She was still bound by the shackles, as he quickly threw off his robes. He then placed her head gently on his lap. "Are you ok Amirah? Can you remember anything? " he asked , his voice choking.

The woman looked at him blankly. Was that her name? More importantly, who was her rescuer? "Who ..are ….you? " she asked in an expressionless tone. The man seemed momentarily confused before he lowered his head in defeat.


	10. Chapter 10

"Who ..are ….you? " Amirah asked in an expressionless tone. Reinhardt's hopes vanished and he hung his head in defeat, despite his rash, almost suicidal, dive into the Styx, he was too late.

"I am Reinhardt," he said at last. Underneath the muck that still clung to her, he saw a runed covered amulet around her neck, and recalled seeing mortals use similar items to survive harsh realms. He guessed that was the reason she had survived so long in the Styx, but even then her ooze covered body looked frail and weakened. He hadn't seen her in sixty years, but her body had the drained look about her, similar to the look of victims of undead attacks. As he gazed upon her, he wondered if all his efforts were in vain. If so , he could at least eat her head right? Would that ease the pain in his heart, or at least the hunger in his belly?

"Errr….how about you not bite her head off," gulped Fiawa in a shocked tone.

Reinhardt slapped his hand to forehead. It was an old habit of his that he thought he had gotten over, vocalizing his thoughts. His ability to project his internal dialogue via telepathy was very powerful, but he would sometimes get things crossed up and speak his thoughts outloud, regardless of how embarrassing they were. He hadn't done it in decades, and he wondered if his short swim into the Styx had unravelled his training in avoiding it.

"Help me get these shackles off of her, " croaked Fiawa as she attempted to ignore his past statement. She began scraping the mud off of Amirah, careful to use a piece of loose wood as to not get any of the deadly liquid on her. Reinhardt at that point didn't care about the Styx or its effects, she was still resting on his lap, her head leaning on his now bare chest, as he intoned a simple knock spell to open the locks. The Aasimar was arched slightly backwards from her bondage and seemed to curl up instinctively against him when released.

"She needs a healer right away," wrote Fiawa as she examined Amirah's weakned form. "preferably a high level cleric or priest, " she added. Reinhardt nodded in agreement. Even though the Lillend had forgotten all about her former friend, she still cared enough to tend to her needs. Reinhardt wondered if it was knowledge that Amirah use to be her friend and she simply wanted to do what was expected of her, or did the Lillend truly care for such victims regardless if she knew them or not. For Reinhardt himself, he would have acted that way to 'cover all the bases' so to speak, since acting benevolently for all was ultimately an exercise in futility. There was simply not enough resources and compassion for all the victims in this harsh world.

"We'll take her back to Trevvan and find one there."

Fiawa shook her head. "No, I doubt the tieflings there would have anyone skilled enough to heal her."

Reinhardt frowned but had to agree upon further thought. "The trip back to Arborea will take too long. I have access to ….open a planar gate, or even teleport, but we both know such power is useless here in Carceri, the prison plane. The gateway back to Arborea is days from here on foot, I could fly her there, but I need you with me. I won't attempt to enter Arborea by myself due to my ..obvious racial heritage."

Fiawa shook her head again as she scribbled into the journal. Reinhardt passed the time by gently stroking Amirah's mud caked hair. He encased his fingers in a thin sheet of ice to protect him from the liquid, but she didn't shiver or anything at his cold touch.

Bragi peered over Fiawa's shoulder but shrugged when he realized she was writing and not drawing any pictures. The troll seemed to have recover from his brief dive into the Styx. Reinhardt was pretty sure it had drained his memories and thought, but the troll was more defined by his instinct than memory so it affected him very little. Reinhardt recalled seeing lobotomized trolls at a slave auction once, and noted that they didn't act that different from normal trolls.

When she was done Fiawa presented her writing to Reinhardt. "The Order of the Husky is nearby. Their hidden fortress is on Cathrys, the second level of Carceri. When I was still a member of the Huntsman of Arborea we stayed there often and accepted the aid of the knights and priests there. I've heard that their lord, the Master of Dragons now resides within its walls, and he's a master healer, though I've never met the man myself. It is only a short journey through a hidden path and I can take Amirah there. She's one of my people, I will take responsibility for her from now on. Your burden is over. "

Reinhardt had never heard of the Order of the Husky, but he had heard rumors of this Master of Dragons and he remembered the two dragon knights from earlier in the day. "The Knights of the Red dog? " he asked.

"Yes I believe that's what the locals call them," wrote the Lillend.

Reinhardt wasn't sure what to say. The last thing he wanted to do was travel deeper into this realm. Trevvan was generally safe enough and far enough for most travellers. Carceri was called the prison plane for a good reason. Eons ago the mighty Titans waged war on the gods and lost. They were cast down and were the first prisoners in these world, a set of nestled planes that nullified travel magic. Only certain gates and paths could allow you to 'escape' to a higher plane, but these were progressively more difficult and guarded the deeper you go. The demodands were the prison guards here, and given the fact that Reinhardt almost killed one earlier, he doubt they would be pleased to see him. Also, the Knights of the Red dog, or Order of the Husky, or whatever those do gooders were called, they were probably considered warriors of light. While tieflings were probably tolerated at best, devils and specifically greater devils would probably be killed if discovered. Reinhardt had his illusions and his non detection spells but he was sure there were paladins amongst them, and given their infamous and relentless evil scouting gaze, he was sure his guise would eventually be found out.

"I'll escort you there," he blurted. The Lillend seemed as surprised as he was when he said the words.

The Lillend began scribbling again. "We both know you aren't a mere tiefling that you pretend to be. I don't know what you are, and honestly I don't care. However, I can guarantee you that the Order of the Husky will find you out. They will probably challenge you or attack you, " read the tiefling outloud.

"Bragi fight knight if they attack boss, or snake woman, or vegetable girl," said the troll thumping his chest.

Reinhardt appreciated the sentiment but ignored his bodyguard. He considered the Lillend's warning and then looked at poor Amirah lying on his lap. Sixty years it took to find her, sixty years of pretending he didn't care while following every rumor and scouring every slave market he could find. This woman helped him defeat Vilehorn, and probably saved his life in the process, and now she was a blank shell and empty slate. He owed nothing to her after his brash heroics earlier, but he still couldn't just walk away. "I will go with you as far as I can. If these knights attempt to kill me, well ….let's say they are certainly welcome to try."

* * *

Fiawa cleaned up Amirah pretty thoroughly as their raft sailed back to town. The Assimar didn't say a word but at least she appeared conscious as he spotted her eyes slowly scanning the surroundings. Reinhardt thought she looked even more frail and helpless without the muck than with it. He knew they had to hurry.

After they made it to shore and then back to Trevvan to rendezvous with Tragi, Reinhardt was shocked to see a crowd of the local militia swarming over his cart, even attempting to open it. There was no sign of his troll guard, except burnt bits of green flesh hanging off the cart.

"What…what happened?" demanded Reinhardt to the official that appeared highest in rank.

The tiefling in charge wore a simple black and grey chevron tabard like his fellows but he did have a pentagram on his chest and oddly enough the most prominent horns. He looked at the bare chested Reinhardt and scowled. "Is this your cart! It was attacked, that's what happened. An elven warrior and a pair of big Cambions killed the troll guarding it as well as a few bystanders, and then attempted to ransacked it. Some of my boys tried to intervene but they got butchered as well before those three left! Are you involved in some type of gang war son? Well are you? " he shouted.

Another, obviously lower member of the militia came up behind the older official and whispered something in his ear. Reinhardt couldn't hear the exact contents of the message, but he did hear …slave auction…Shator….. frozen. At that point, the official had heard enough and began bowing profusely before him and the rest of his militia beat a hasty retreat. While Reinhardt hated showy displays of power, he did admit it came in handy sometimes.

Reinhardt was a bit surprised to see the Lillend shed actual tears for the slain troll. Tragi died doing what he liked best, and that was fighting, and judging by the way his burning bits were scattered all over the place, he must have put up a grand struggle. While he admitted he would miss the troll, it was more like missing a loyal pet than a friend. It didn't seem necessary to make a big dramatic scene at his death like the Eladrin was doing, but Reinhardt guessed that it was common for the Celestial races to be a bit over emotional.

"Poor Tragi," croaked Fiawa.

"My name is Bragi not Tragi," noted Reinhardt's sole remaining troll.

"I'm talking… about your brother…. that died," corrected Fiawa as she gulped her words.

"I have a brother? And his name Tragi?" said Bragi with a blank stare that looked even stupider than normal. "What a dumb dumb name. "

"Okay enough," interrupted Reinhardt. "You'll never talk any sense into a troll of all things. What's more important is that this Oberon character that attacked you earlier, has obviously found out that you were rescued and has tried to finish the job. If Amirah wasn't in such a dire condition I would send you one way while we head off in another, but unfortunately you are the only one that can lead us to this Order of the Husky or the Red Dog or whatever they call it. As well as you are probably the only one that they will let past, the need for a guard is more important than ever. So let's head out quickly ok?"

* * *

She laid down on the cot in the strange wagon. It was much bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, and she reasoned it was some sort of interdimensional magic. Despite its spatial warping properties it still felt crowded from the rows of jars, souvenirs, and oddities that lined its shelves.

She had no memories save one , but all her knowledge remained oddly intact. From where they found her , and the way she was shackled she guessed she was thrown into the River Styx as some sort of ultimate revenge. They called her Amirah but that was an empty name, it didn't mean anything to her. She heard they wanted to heal her drained body, which was possible, but she doubt her memories could be restored. Only ancient the ancient magics of the Archons or Devas could do such a thing, and doubted this so called master healer was that powerful. She wondered what she did in the past that would warrant such a cruel punishment. Was she a great hero, finally defeated by a vile villain? Or was it the other way around? Judging by her rescuers, she wasn't sure.

There was the Lillend named Fiawa. A creature that was easily identifiable as a creature of light save her monstrous voice. She didn't seem too proud of it though, and she often wrote in a journal to communicate. Trolls were often seen as destructive creatures that ruined the environment, and fiendish versions of them were even worse. Yet, the brute Bragi seemed more stupid than malevolent. Finally there was the albino Tiefling Reinhardt that walked around bare chested. He was certainly handsome, with his well-groomed hair and cropped beard, as well as his rock hard athletic arms and torso. Somehow she could sense that he wasn't a tiefling but something much more sinister, but she didn't mind it when she rested her head on his chest. She had to admit, while she was sure he was the most dangerous of the three, she found his company the most comforting.

As the cart rumbled forward to whatever healer they were supposedly going to, the Lillend named Fiawa slipped into the back of the crowded wagon.

"Is everything ok Amirah? Can I get you anything?" Fiawa wrote on the journal.

Amirah still had trouble identifying with that name. She shook her head. While the Lillend was the most obviously friendly of the three, her reactions to her seemed forced or even fake. Not that Amirah blamed her, since she knew her ordeal in the Styx probably wiped the Lillend's memory of her. She might have been her best friend once, but after prolonged exposure to the dark river's forgetful waters, she was probably nothing to her. Amirah thought she should be thankful that Fiawa would risk so much for a stranger, so she returned her own forced smile.

Fiawa seemed satisfied and looked around the cart. "Ughh….hezrou tadpoles," she croaked in surprise as she spotted a large sealed jar with three black proto fish in them. The Lillend dropped her journal as she leaped backwards and knocked and scattered items around the tent. Amirah guessed that it was most likely used as food for the tiefling and his troll and not a torture device but nodded in agreement. "Savages," she croaked as she quickly left the wagon.

A short while later, the red troll Bragi squeezed into the cart. "Mud girlie ok?"

"Yes, " she whispered.

"Goodie, me grab some grub," replied the troll. Amirah noticed he reached for the tadpoles then reconsidered and grabbed some sort of dried spiky fish instead.

"Bragi, I want to apologize for your brother's death. If you and your friends weren't out rescuing me, then you might have saved your brother," Amirah said as the troll attempted to back out of the cart.

Bragi stopped and laughed, "Trolls strong. Tragi died, so he was weak. So no big loss," he shrugged.

Amirah shivered at his indifferent reaction but guessed that was the norm for his primitive and brutal society.

Later still the bare chested albino Tiefling entered the cart. It was hard to tell if the cart was moving, since it was enchanted in such a way to ignore bumps, but she could see the swamps slowly move past when the door was ajar. Amirah put away the book she had found and smiled to greet him.

"Sorry to intrude, but Fiawa told me to put some clothes on. She said I'm ….distracting her," apologized Reinhardt.

Amirah suppressed a giggle as she agreed with the Lillend's thoughts. The tiefling certainly appeared handsome, and had a heroic quality to him despite his fiendish background. Some instinct or sense she possessed told her that he wasn't what he appeared but she felt her heart jump as he approached her cot.

Reinhardt then removed a small chest under her cot, and took out a folded silk white robe with a simple violet border. "Are you feeling better? Has your memory returned?" he asked with genuine concern.

"It's easier to breathe, but my body just doesn't feel right. I don't think I can walk, or even stand. And my memory….."

Reinhardt leaned closer his eyes widening.

"is still gone….it's infuriating. I think I was some sort of demon hunter before I was tossed into the river. I can recall such obscure facts that Balors explode when they die, that Molydeus demons use vorpal axes, or Ice Devils regenerate from even fire….but I still can't remember who I am."

Amirah noticed Reinhardt flinch slightly at the mention of Ice Devils. Given his white skin, she wondered if he was actually a disguised half fiend that was sired by one, or if he had the misfortune of encountering one of those foul creatures in the past.

"…..did we know each other in the past? Were we friends? Is that why all of you are helping me?"

Reinhardt paused and sat next to her on the cot. He seemed both thoughtful and confused as he struggled for words.

"We don't know each other at all. We only briefly met, roughly sixty years ago, fighting against a common foe. I'm sorry to say , if we met on other circumstances, we probably would have fought each other instead," he admitted sadly.

Amirah didn't expect such an answer from him. Given the gentle way he had treated her, and how her own heart raced when he was near, she thought they must have shared something special, or had some type of bond between them.

Reinhardt brushed his rough hands against the top of her hair, and then ran his fingers down till they touched her chin. His touch was cold, almost frozen, but Amirah didn't mind. "I'm sorry this has happened to you. That you lost your memory. That the world has forgotten about you. However, I'll do my best to get you to Fiawa's healer, so swears Reyzenhart."

With that the tiefling made his way back to the door. Amirah felt something torn from her as he left, and didn't want him to leave.

"Wait….I have a question," she gasped.

Reinhardt stopped and turned to face her, confusion once again evident on his thoughtful face.

"When I was in the mud, everything I knew was gone. However, there was one thing that kept me sane. That was a kiss. Were you the one that kissed me?"

The tiefling breathed deeply and nodded. "Yes, that was I."

"Were ….were we lovers?"

"….no…..as I said we only met briefly…"

Amirah paused as she saw the pained look on his face. She didn't want to continue but she had to know. "That kiss sustained me through the darkness of the Styx. I don't know my past, but it clearly meant something to me. Did it mean the same to you?"

Reinhardt returned to the cot and sat once again next to her, thought this time it was much closer to her head. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. Amirah eagerly returned it, but was disappointed at how plain it felt. She had hoped that a tide of emotions would rush in and overtake her , but there was nothing behind it.

Reinhardt held his hands up before his face, and formed his fingers into pincher shapes. He began snapping them quickly before he lowered his head and faced Amirah once again.

"I'm sorry for that. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe if I was some handsome prince, I could break the enchantment on you with a kiss. The truth of the matter is far …uglier," sighed Reinhardt. " I searched for you for sixty years. Pried every rumor, and went to every slave auction I could. Just for a hint, or affirmation that you were still alive, but I found nothing that helped me in finding you. I convinced myself that you were dead after a few decades, but I still searched anyways. It was just a stroke of circumstance that I found Fiawa a few days ago, which lead me to you. I should be overjoyed right now, but I'm not. I don't know what I was thinking, but I haven't been completely honest, not then when we battled back to back against the Balor Vilehorn, and certainly not now, during my crude attempt to play dashing knight to your maiden in distress."

"I won't lead you on anymore, even if you have your memory lost to you. The truth is, I'm not a tiefling at all, but a fiend from the pit. Not some common Barbazu or Orthon, but an exiled General of Stygia. A giant chattering insect, that could snap your head off, or sting your heart full of poison. I don't know what type of warped mind game I've been playing with you or myself, but it ends here."

"After I lead you to this Order of Husky, Bragi and I shall return to Trevvan to continue our business. I fully expect the Lillend to reward our efforts when she returns to Arborea, else she face my frozen wrath," he warned with a grim look on his face. At that he stood up, and marched forcefully out of the cart.

Amirah was stunned. Was she trapped in a nightmare? Was she still stuck in the mud of Stygia, and being tormented by these random phantasms of her memory? Was this some sort of Carerian punishment or prison? Did the demons of the dark water, take the one thing that held her to reality, and warped it into something so twisted and vile?

No.

The kiss was real. It was true. She didn't remember a thing of her past, but she knew it was the most honest thing she had ever felt.

Yet….Reinhardt seemed pretty adamant about his intentions. Her feelings might have been pure, but his certainly didn't seem so. It might very well be that whatever she felt, wasn't what he felt. He sounded confused, but she knew that all fiends were slightly insane or delusional. They revel in their carnage and corruption, yet always think they were in the right. Was she a victim of such a deception?

Amirah wanted to run after him and confront him, but her legs were numb. She wanted to scream in frustration, but was too frail to do so. Her body wasn't only weak, but it felt wrong. She felt she should have running, or even flying with the wind, but she couldn't even manage to get out of the cot.

She felt cold tears run down her face. She wanted to throw something, but only Fiawa's journal was at hand.

* * *

Reinhardt returned to the front of the wagon, a new robe on but a haggard look on his face.

"How much longer till we reach this secret portal of yours," he demanded as he took the reins of the stench kows.

Fiawa seemed a bit surprised at his tone. She attempted to write something down, but found herself looking aimlessly for her notepad.

"Soon," she croaked when she realized she had somehow misplaced it. "It's very close."

"I'll take you as far as I can go, but you two will make the last leg by yourselves," he ordered.

Fiawa nodded. "I understand, " she gulped." They won't take kindly to you."

Reinhardt scowled and looked at his hands again. He put his fingers together and shaped them into the form of crude claws. Why was he continuing with this façade? He could destroy all of those paladins and clerics of the Order of the Husky, regardless if their so called Master was leading them. Why was he playing nursemaid to this annoying Lillend and Assimar? He could snap both their necks off and sup on their brains. He had destroyed armies of demons and devils in his prime, and now was reduced to this pathetic wreck. All for what? Some crazy fairy tale notion that he could earn the love of the assimar in his cart. That this 'love' would fill that empty void in his heart? Ridiculous! He was the frozen death, he was the winter that crushed all hope. The only thing that could warm his frozen heart was the steaming hot blood of his victims poured over it.

"Err bosss…." Interrupted Bragi. Reinhardt glared at the troll, as the creature waved its clawed hands above its head, and then slowly radiated them out before repeating the action.

Reinhardt slapped his hand towards his forehead again as he realized he once again had vocalized his thoughts.

"Err…..I could carry Amirah and walk from here, " croaked the Lillend as she shuffled well and away from the faux tiefling. "We don't want to inconvenience you." Even with her distorted voice Reinhardt could sense the tangible fear in her voice.

"I'm sorry for that …mental outburst. I shouldn't have frightened you like, " he apologized deeply. " It's just…. It's just… I want to be something, someone that I can never be. I don't know how to explain this. It's like finally climbing an impossibly high mountain, and realizing it's just a foot hill."

Fiawa calmed down slightly, but didn't close the distance between them. "I understand. You care a lot for Amirah. I don't know your past, and neither does she, but obviously you love her. How else could you hold onto her memory when everyone had forgotten, and why else would you jump into the Styx to rescue her. I know Eladrins , especially Lillends like myself, throw around the word 'love' a lot, almost carelessly even, but I do know a man's deeds reveals more than his words. Mentally projected or not. I don't know what obstacle that you think is between you two, but after she's healed, I hope you two will try to resolve your differences," croaked the Lillend. Though her voice was destroyed by the Hezrou tadpole, her words seemed poetic and almost musical to Reinhardt.

*CLAP CLAP*

Reinhardt stopped at the sound. He turned to the side and saw an elf in golden glittering armor floating above the muck of the swamp. Flanking him was a pair of black armored ebon Cambions, and above him the gargoyle like horned devil that they had met earlier.

"It seems that even without your voice you are still quite the orator, Fiawa," applaud the golden elf. Reinhardt had to partly shield his eyes as waves of radiant energy seemed to emanate from the man. Even without introductions he knew this must be Oberon, the fallen Tulani. One of the most dangerous caste of spirits from Arborea.

"There's too many to fight, " croaked Fiawa. "I'll surrender to them."

Reinhardt scowled. "No. This Eladrin noble won't want anyone knowing his deed. They'll kill us all to maintain his secrecy. I'll hold them off, while you steer this cart to this Knight Order of yours."

"But..but….they will tear you apart! " protested Fiawa.

Reinhardt laughed as his features changed and grew before them. His smooth skin became a thick chitinous carapace, while his hand turned to rending claws. Even his mouth was warped into horrible razor sharp mandibles as he grew a long sinuous tail ending in a wicked barb. As his horrifying transformation completed an iron spear coated with ice materialized into his hands.

*Click, click, clack, click , click " hissed the Gelugon before it leaped towards his opponents.

Fiawa flinched from the sight as Bragi guided the cart away. "The boss say's not if I tear them apart first, " declared the fiendish troll with a smile.


	11. Chapter 11

Reinhardt screeched a battle roar at his collected foes in all his unholy insect glory. The Horned devil and Oberon shirked from the battle cry, but the Cambions did not flinch. Not that Reinhardt was surprised since Cambions were amongst the staunchest opponents from the Abyss. He was outnumbered four to one, each of his opponents a powerful foe, but he needed to buy some time.

Reinhardt used the brief respite his bravado bought to decide on a battle strategy. The Cornugon was the fastest, but they were also fairly stupid and proud in Reinhardt's opinion. He thought he might be able to goad it into a fight rather than pursuing Fiawa. The Cambions were in heavy armor, trudging through the swamp. He wasn't too concerned about them as long as he kept his distance from them. The Tulani had two blades, a golden scimitar and a sword of fire, and was potentially the most dangerous and was probably their leader. Fiawa had mentioned that this Oberon had been banished for cowardice, so Reinhardt gambled that the Tulani's heart would not be in the fight. Reinhardt decided he would be the one to take out first.

Satisfied with his course of action, the savage ice devil hurtled his spear at the Tulani. The weapon split the sky like thunder, as the Ice Devil empowered the attack with his arcane might. Despite the power of the spear, the Tulani shifted his form, disappearing and then reappearing a few feet, and dodged the attack easily.

"Child's play," scoffed Oberon.

"Look out! It's a trick! " barked the Horned Devil from above in a high infernal voice.

Oberon looked upwards and gave the Cornugon a disdainful look, but it was too late. Reinhardt had fallen on all fours and galloped the distance between them, lightly treading atop of the swamp like some kind of swamp bug. He narrowed the gap easily using the spear as a distraction. The Tulani's light flared briefly like a tangible barrier. It radiated holy energy like a volley of arrows and burned the great insect as it approached, but it wasn't powerful enough to stop it from pouncing. Reinhardt ignored his burns and leaped acrobatically into the air, over his prey as it grasped the Tulani's shoulders with both its claws. In a split second Reinhardt landed behind the Eladrin noble, and then threw his foe backwards, sending him spinning head first into the muck. Before Oberon struck the ground however, Reinhardt lashed his tail barb directly into his stomach, piercing his golden armor like foil and slamming and pinning him into the muck.

The Ice devil then moved in for the kill, ready to snap the Tulani's head off with his razor sharp mandibles.

"Mercy, "blubbered the now mud covered Eladrin, his voice slightly slurred from being slowed by his the Ice Devil's stinger. Reinhardt would have normally ignored such pleas, but for a second he thought his prey looked a bit like Amirah, save for his big chin, and cowardly mewlings. He hesitated for a moment, and then sensed an imminent attack from overhead.

Reinhardt leapt forward and to the side, spinning his body to face his new attacker. A great spiked iron chain narrowly missed his back as it snaked through the air in deadly circular arcs. From experience in the Great Reckoning , Reinhardt knew that the weapon was to be avoided at all costs. Besides cracking his shell, a single hit would probably stun him and let his opponents pile up on him.

As he recovered his footing, Reinhardt clicked menacingly at his natural rival, and then paused as he finally recognized his opponent. It was impossible, but the spikes, and the high whiney voice were unmistakeable.

"Click, click , Tra, click, gen, Clack, clack, click!"

"Yes, Reyzenhart my old general. It is I, Tragen!" bellowed the Horned Devil proudly in its high pitched voice. "You tried to have me killed once at the hands of your little pet, but today I will have the last laugh!"

The last time Reinhardt saw the traitorous Spinagon commander was when he sent him on a suicide mission. He never heard from him again, and assumed he had met his well-deserved doom at the hands of his ex-slave. The last thing he expected was the creature returning as a Greater Devil.

Reinhardt's multifaceted eyes saw that the Cambions were trudging behind as the Horned Devil was keeping his attention forwards. The Ice Devil saw the chain lashed towards him once more but saw an opportunity to teach the trio a lesson in using your environment against your foes.

As the chain came towards his head, Reinhardt released an icestorm into the area, momentarily blinding his foes with a cloud of sleet and ice and spoiling their aim. While the ice was deadly to most mortals, against these foes it was more a nuisance.

"Don't try to run you worm! There's no escape! " roared Tragen into the frozen winds, but Reinhardt had no intention of running. As the wintery storm settled it revealed a frozen wasteland. Mounds of snow, pillars of frost, and sheets of ice had trapped both the Cambion's feet and the Horned Devil's chain in their embrace. Reinhardt had used his more powerful ice spells directly against the swamp under the guise of the storm, and seized the opportunity by pouncing upwards against Tragen as he struggled to pull his weapon from the ice.

He deeply slashed Tragen across the chest with one powerful claw, and nicked his left wing deeply with the other. His flurry of attacks was interrupted however by a head butt from his opponent's great horned head, but his chitinous skull plate proved just as tough as his opponent's.

Targen was unable to maintain his flight from the injury, and both devils fell to the ground still locked in battle. The pair smashed through the ice and were momentarily stunned but their infernal constitutions allow them to quickly recover. Reinhardt's summoned his spear and it flew into his hand. He saw the wounds he inflicted earlier on Tragen had already began to heal. He didn't have any blessed silver weapons on him, and knew he would have to resort to eating his opponent to stop him from regenerating, a satisfying enough prospect. Tragen on the other hand had lost the use of his chain , so drew a great pitchfork from his back in response.

"Click, Clack, poseur, Click! "Admonished Reinhardt in disgust which caused his opponent to lower his head in shame. Eons of fighting against negative sterotypes about Devils, and Tragen goes and uses a pitch fork of all things! No self-respecting Greater Baatorian would use such a weapon. That would be like dancing with goat fur leggings over a pit of flames.

Enraged, Reinhardt slid towards his foe, smoothly traversing the distance in great strides, his spear lowered near the ice. The Horned Devil jabbed his pitchfork deeply into Reinhardt's side as he approached, but lost his balance as he was unused to the slippery surface he stood on. Reinhardt seized this opportunity and skated to his opponent's off flank, and crashed him heavily into the side with his shoulder, sending Tragen slamming against a cluster of frozen trees. As the Horned Devil recovered from the blow, Reinhardt lifted his spear with both hands, and cross checked the back of his opponent's head into the solid plants.

As the Horned Devil struggled in the frozen vegetation, Reinhardt attempted to slice his head off with his mandibles. Only the heavy crown of horns protected the former Spinagon, so the Ice Devil settled for tearing into his heavily scaled back instead.

*CRASH* *SNAP* *CRASH*

Reinhardt hopped backwards at the sound as a huge split snaked along the ice, before sundering the surface into many smaller jagged pieces. Two armored forms waded through the small ocean of mini icebergs unhindered towards him.

The sinuous insect balanced itself easily on the bobbing surface, as the wounded Horned devil flopped into the frozen muck when it lost its balance again. Reinhardt pointed his spear at the approaching Cambions, but the dark warriors broke formation and attempted to out flank him from both sides. Reinhardt considered a fly spell to escape them, but he was here to engage them not to flee. He wasn't sure if Fiawa had taken Amirah to safety yet, and wasn't about to risk their safety.

Reinhardt noted that one of the Cambions wielded an obsidian blade that sang with an invisible aura of power, while the other had a more mundane dark iron sword and an odd patch right in the middle of the abdomen section of its breastplate. Reinhardt knew who to strike first, as he sprang at the iron bladed demon with spear fully outstretched. The demon was obviously skilled with his blade as it attempted to bat the spear away, but the cold iron spear was made to slay demons and it would not be denied. This spear had pierced the heart of Vilehorn himself and charged with Reinhardt's arcane power, it would not be stopped by the Cambion's simple parry. The weapon overpowered the demon's speed and armor, and struck the previously damaged area. The spear found its mark and punctured through the demon's stomach, pausing briefly before bursting free from its back.

Reinhardt attempted to yank the weapon free to face his rapidly charging fellow, but the Cambion would not be denied in death. It clutched the weapon with its remaining strength and twisted its body violently, wrenching Reinhardt's grip away.

Reinhardt knew he couldn't summon his spear while the demon still clutched at it with his iron death grip, so took the time to evade the other's Cambions deadly obsidian blade. The glassy black sword split ice and trees easily, as the Ice Devil scrambled out of its reach. Reinhardt weaved and dodge from the flurry of slashes and jabs, but even the swings that missed him were able to crumple and crack his shell from some invisible force radiating from the blade. Beaten and battered, Reinhardt spotted an opportunity in the rhythm of his foe's attacks and attempted to lash out at him with his tail. While most denizens of the lower planes had immunity to poison, the barb on Reinhardt's stinger was more a supernatural numbing cold than a natural venom. He thought if he could jab the Cambion a few times in succession he would be able to strike his weakened foe down at his leisure.

As Reinhardt's stinger flashed towards the Cambion as it missed another attack, the ebon warrior stepped to the side, and regained control of his strike faster than Reinhardt thought possible. An impossibly fast feint, that would do any blademaster of Dis proud. A parry and a lightning riposte later, Reinhardt found his tail had found its mark but was severed cleanly as it fell into the swampy waters.

Instead of pressing his advantage though, the Cambion paused and saluted Reinhardt with his great dark sword. "Know this, you are fighting Malleus, Champion of Zelatar. You are a fine opponent who fights with both intelligence and courage, and you combine your magic and innate strength seamlessly, but you choose your battles poorly. You should have taken your opportunity to flee when you crippled that weakling Targen," lectured the Cambion.

Reinhardt hissed and clicked at the Cambion. The Cambion laughed as he raised his blade and strode slowly forwards to him, clearly affected by his stinger's slowing power. Reinhardt had a better sense of the speed of his blade now and knew he had to alter his tactics. However, with his opponent slowed, he was sure he could take advantage of this weakness. He circled the demon against the demon's dominant arm hoping to gain a split second on his foe the next time he charged, but the Cambion smiled and simply changed grips easily and foiled his plot. Reinhardt frowned and shot another cone of cold into the swamp, hoping to trap the demon once again, but Malleus ignored it and smashed through the ice , slowly but relentlessly towards him.

Reinhardt hopped backwards out of the demon's reach, when suddenly a radiant aura filled the air behind him. Arrows of radiant energy once again struck his back. Trapped between the Cambion and the aura, Reinhardt barely had time to shift, as a blade made of a radiant fire slashed downwards into him. The Ice Devil's quick reflexes saved him from a fatal blow, but the fiery blade vaporized his left arm and sent him crashing into the frozen ground.

"You thought you had me beat! You dare to think you made me yield!" screamed Oberon as a wild look marred his angelic elven features. The Tulani's lord anger seemed to manifest itself in his radiant aura and it burned the mud and filth that had previously clung to his golden armor.

Reinhardt flipped on his three remaining limbs and crouched like a wild beast. His tail was severed but he used it's stump to balance his body as he clacked and clicked menacingly at the Tulani noble and the remaining Cambion. The tide had turned against him, but he wouldn't let them pass. He would buy Fiawa and Amirah whatever amount of time she needed.

Oberon paused at Reinhart's chatter, and then laughed. Reinhardt would have face palmed himself for projecting his thoughts outloud if he wasn't missing a limb. "You want to sacrifice yourself to save that fool Fiawa and someone we don't even know? You silly beast…..what in the Abyss made you think we were after her? " he said, as a winged demon with a chain hovered overhead and the ebon demon advanced towards him.

* * *

Amirah wasn't sure what was happening, but there was an angry commotion followed by some inhuman screeching outside. While the inside of the cart was balanced against any sudden bumps on the road, it still gave a sense of motion as the stench kows seemed to rumble forward at double speed. She didn't know what was happening outside, but she sensed that combat was taking place, and something stirred in her blood. She wanted to leave the cot, to take up arms, and to literally fly out the door into the fray as the sounds of battle called to her, but her body betrayed her as she was still confined to the bed.

She raged against her weakness, and cursed her mortal shell, but could do nothing to satisfy her inexplicable lust for battle. Without actually witnessing the fight, she knew Reinhardt was in the thick of it, and was both filled with worry and pride. He was fighting for her, she was sure of it. Regardless of the anger in his words when he left, she knew those weren't the feelings in his heart. They couldn't possibly be. From the brief time she was made aware again after he pulled her free from the Styx, she could feeling nothing but the quiet affection he had for her.

She didn't care about whatever brief history they shared before, or whatever life she lived in the past. She didn't care if he was a powerful Infernal, and she was obviously a Celestial of some sort, she felt safe and wanted in his presence, regardless of his rant and his last outburst. He might deny any affection he had for her and claim it was only his fiendish hunger speaking, but she knew it wasn't true.

To her disappointment and shame their last kiss meant nothing to both of them, but the kiss that sustained her through the darkness couldn't be a lie, it couldn't be some monstrous joke he was playing on her. And certainly the words she read couldn't be false. It was prose that rivaled those of any Eladrin poet, and spoke volumes of his loneliness and conflict, of his passion and his spirit.

She glanced at Fiawa's journal even as voices were raised outside of the cart. They were muffled but her hearing had been increasing exponentially since she became aware again.

"He will get slaughtered! I have to help him! "Protested an unmistakeable croaking voice as Amirah eavesdropped through the wind.

"Boss say take girly girls to the gate. Bragi dunno where gate is, but snake girl does," replied a deep rumbling voice.

"It's close. We're almost there. Let go of me! Once we get there you can go on, and I'll lend him a hand," croaked Fiawa.

"Hah! Girly snake girl has broken wings, girly snake girl can't fly! "

"Don't you care what happens to your master? He's facing Oberon, a Tulani lord, the highest caste of Eladrin outside of the Court. A horned devil, a monster second only to a Pitlord, and two Cambions. My memory is spotty, but I'm sure they were the same two that defeated me and I think Amirah. There's holes in my memory but her presence there would explain many things. I don't care if he's an Gelugon, he'll be torn apart. They're after me, and I won't be responsible for that. "

She had only heard bits and pieces, but Amirah had a sense of what was happening. Her sense of self was gone, but she knew the weaknesses and strengths and more importantly exactly how dangerous the list of foes that Fiawa recanted were. Her body would not fail her as she willed herself to stand.

She spotted one of the many souvenir weapons on the cart's shelves, and picked the one that looked the lightest and most serviceable. A cold iron scimitar of elven make that had been obviously shattered and reforged previously. She forced herself to her feet and struggled to the back of the cart, and opened the door. Fiawa and Bragi were still arguing and Amirah briefly paused to reconsider her action. She was too weak to even walk but could she couldn't simply wait like a lump as Reinhardt was being butchered.

She jumped off the cart and unceremoniously flopped into the muck.

"What did you expect would happen you stupid girl, " she swore to herself as she struggled in the mud. She scraped some of the sludge off her face, just enough to see and redoubled her efforts. "Did you think you would be seized by the 'power of love' and race to be at his side?"

Amirah braced the scimitar into the muck and leveraged herself up, even as the cart rumbled past her, unawares that their passenger had left them. She felt a bit of confidence return as she stood on her wobbly legs and began to hobble towards the distance sounds of battle.

"You know…..walking through the swamp isn't easy," noted a gruff voice nearby.

Amirah stopped and turned to face the stranger, a grizzled man sporting gray hair and a haggard face, possibly human possibly half elf, with a slight paunch wearing worn leather armor. He was sitting on a stump, appraising her quietly, and looked like an unremarkable mercenary from the mortal realms. Impossible, given where they were. There was a familiar look to him but her stolen memories could not conjure a name. Given her condition and where they were, she wondered if she was hallucinating. She briefly questioned if she was still in the cot and was only dreaming this wretched attempt to reach Reinhardt.

"Who are you?" she gasped." Are you real or some nightmare of mine I conjured to taunt me?"

The grizzled man, "Hmmm…a good question. Possibly both," he said after a moment of thoughtful pause. "You can call me Grinder though," he added with a smile.

Amirah was certain the man was a figment of her imagination and trudged past him.

"I can help you know. I'm good at that, even though I don't appear to be useful," he quipped as she forced her way past.

"Eh..what can you do for me?"

"I can do nothing for you that you can't do yourself. However, I can tell you that you'll never make it to Reyzenhart or Reinhardt or Rheyzenixhaxtl or whatever he chooses to call himself now, if you try to walk there. Walking doesn't suit you."

Amirah stopped and turned to face the man. He was gone, vanished, but she wasn't surprised. He was just a figment of her imagination after all. "What do you expect me to do," she mumbled to no one in particular. She turned and resumed her hopeless rescue mission.

Her pace improved slightly, but she knew she would never make it. She didn't care though. If Reinhardt won then he would find her as he returned. If he died then at least she would be at his side.

A loud crack up ahead, like the sound of breaking icebergs, interrupted her most likely futile trek, and she stumbled forward in surprise. She saw the mud coming at her once again, but strangely she also felt a brief comforting rush of winds against her face.

* * *

Oberon continued to laugh," Boys can you believe it? Instead of running, he attempted to buy some time for that bitch Fiawa and her little friends by sacrificing himself. I heard he was a bit eccentric for an Infernal , but didn't realize he was stupid . He practically offered himself up to us."

"Yes…Oberon," gasped Targen overhead. He had retrieved his chain and his wing had regenerated slightly but he was still struggling to fly from his injuries.

The Cambion simply grunted at the comment and continued to crash through the ice at his now slowed pace.

Reinhardt knew his situation was tactically unfeasible. He wasn't sure why they want him, but he would deny them that victory. He could attempt a fly spell and flee, but doubt he could evade the Tulani or even the weakened Horned Devil. He had already ruled out teleporting or planar shifting magic due to the plane he was in. He felt some of his strength regenerating, but it would not play a factor in the upcoming fight. The battle would be won or lost in mere moments.

"Targen, I think you should seek out that cart that fled and slay everyone there, especially that cow Fiawa," smirked Oberon." I'm sure Reyzenhart here would enjoy that."

Reinhardt saw that the Horned Devil scowl at that order, most likely at being bossed around, but didn't complain and simply bowed in compliance and beat his wings slowly towards the direction the cart headed. Reinhardt considered engaging him first, but instead bounded towards Oberon like a wounded beast. He would slay the head of the monster and end this.

He easily jumped over the supernaturally slowed Cambion, as he pounced on the surprised Tulani. Beams of radiant fire pierced his hide, but Reinhardt managed to rake and claw Oberon in a flurry of strikes. While the Eladrin noble's armor protected him from the bulk of the strikes, the savage nature of the attack forced him to drop his flaming blade as he instinctively covered his face. Reinhardt clawed, and bit Oberon relentlessly but was yanked and thrown backwards before he could finish him off.

Reinhardt hissed in anger as the Cambion Malleus grasped his severed tail and swung him into one of the ice pillars that the Ice Devil created previously, like some screeching fiendish bat. Reinhardt felt his shell crack as he smashed into the pillar and crumpled onto the ground.

"Ahh…my face! My beautiful face !" cried Oberon. He then turned to the broken form of Reinhardt and pointed. " Targen , Malleus, kill him! Our master doesn't need him alive! "

Reinhardt summoned his remaining strength and literally clawed his way to his feet. The savage Infernal stabbed his claws into a nearby tree and pulled himself standing to face his enemies.

Before he could engage however, a high pitched shriek filled the air. Everyone paused as they glanced skywards to what appeared to be a rapidly spinning Targen. The Horned Devil appeared to have been swept by a powerful wind and was tossed violently around in the turbulence. Before he could regain his balance, the winds dragged him downwards and sent the monster spiralling into the ice filled water below. Before the creature smashed into the ice though, it was able to correct its plummet and break its fall on one of the frozen trees.

A voice boomed above them in anger. All at once it was the howling of the wind, the crack of thunder, and the shriek of the storm. Despite its cacophonous sound and echo its message was unmistakeable. "I am the wind, and I claim him! "

Reinhardt had never heard such a voice, but it sounded familar. He stared skywards in confusion. "Amirah?" he croaked as he forced his vocal chords to make a sound other than clicking. He had always assumed she was an Assimar and hadn't realized she could have been something more.

Oberon took a step back, but summoned both his flaming blade and drew his golden scimitar. Targen was reluctant to take to the air again at the new attacker, but raised its chain defensively. Malleus ignored the threat and continued his march towards Reinhardt.

The wind swirled above them and then plunged downwards towards the combatants. The wind howled and twisted and seemed to settle behind Reinhart. For a brief moment, the Ice Devil thought he could defeat his attackers with Amirah at his side. After all they had battled a Balor together. But his hopes were dashed when a sharp pain exploded in his back, and a scimitar burst through his chest.

Reinhardt looked in horror, even as Oberon and his thugs looked in surprise. He glanced backwards and saw it was indeed Amirah behind him, tears streamed from her face as she drove the scimitar again into his back and pried his back carapace open.

"Don't cry", were his last thoughts before the darkness took him.

* * *

"Who the hell is that?" complained Oberon as Reinhardt stumbled forwards, his arms twitching and flailing in pain. The new attacker stepped out from behind the ice devil with a gleaming red scimitar in one hand and bloody gore in the other. She glared at the Tulani and his fellows before vanishing into a jet of wind and flew away overhead.

Malleus ignored the question and slammed the pommel of his obsidian blade into the Ice Devil's shoulder, knocking him flat on his back. Targen jumped forwards and slammed their prone but still twitching opponent into the muck with his great chain, stunning it into submission.

Oberon sighed. "I can't wait to get out of this crazy dimension and away from its extremely random encounters." He walked towards the dazed Infernal and peered down at the pitiful creature. "You were a tough opponent Reyzenhart, but what else can you expect from the one that slew Vilehorn and Naome. When what passes as your soul goes shrieking back into the pit, I hope you remember who sent you there when they torture your spirit for your failure. If you somehow retain your sense of self after you reform, I would dearly love for you to find me again, so I can get the pleasure of kicking you back in," he gloated before he slashed both of his scimitars across Reinhardt's neck.

The Ice Devil didn't shriek or scream, but was simply seized in a final wave of convulsions before he fell still. Oberon smiled as he impaled the insect demon's charred skull with his golden scimitar. He then turned to Targen and raised his nose imperiously. "Forget that slug Fiawa, she's both useless and powerless. We will settle accounts with her another time. Grab the body, our master awaits."


	12. Chapter 12

Oberon smiled as he watched Targen struggle with the insect body. While the Tulani lord bristled at the thought of having been wounded by the chitinous Reyzenhart, he did admit that the Horned Devil probably had sustained the most injuries in the fight. The creature's wing was almost shorn off, as well having most of its back plates torn and ripped apart by their Gelugon foe. Just watching Targen heft the 700 plus pound corpse now was partly entertainment and a simple matter of control for the Tulani.

"Hurry up now, we don't want to keep the master waiting," admonished Oberon. "He, she, it….whatever they want to refer itself as, has waited sixty years for this, let's try not to make them wait another sixty."

Targen grunted and panted as he shuffled forwards with the body. The Horned Devil's great muscles could support its burden, but its wings were still too weak to fly with the load. Oberon noted that its innate regeneration was greatly reduced, and wondered if it was because of Reyzenhart's attacks, the swampy plain plane they were on, or possibly that Targen hadn't fully mastered its form yet. Most likely the answer was all of the above.

"If…someone could help me….we would go quicker," grunted the whiney voice of Targen as he shuffled behind Oberon and Malleus.

"Oh no….this is your burden. Malleus and I were sent to retrieve Vilehorn's skull from a fortress in Arborea itself, which we did with great difficulty and personal risk. You were given the task of retrieving that ice bug's body in the middle of Carceri. A task you failed miserably at, and came begging to me for help. I naturally volunteered for the greater glory of our master, but my armor's been marred, and Malleus has lost another one of his brothers," lectured Oberon.

Malleus grunted at the mention of his brother. "He was weak. The weak must be purged," he said as he pushed his way through the swamp. While his armor was still damaged the supernatural slowing that had inflicted him earlier had vanished as they made their way across the Carcerian swamp.

"You see….even dear Malleus understands this. You are nothing but a weakling after allm=, that came begging to us for help. Now that we have rendered that aid, you should at least have the decency of carrying the body by yourself," laughed Oberon as he floated slightly behind the Cambion in his humanoid form.

Targen growled. Drawing the ire of a Horn Devil was often considered a dangerous thing, since it's supernaturally charged chain could lay waste to creatures from a Balor to a Pitfiend, but the high pitched snarl of Targen was comical at best. Oberon likened it to the barks of the small fluffy lap dogs that the women in the Court of Stars often carried.

"It wasn't my fault that I was given this difficult task with no help. All you had to do was hire some hapless tieflings to rob some musty archive. I had to fight the Ice Devil with a full complement of his trolls. The battle was actually going my way, until those red dragon riding paladins showed up," whined Targen as he trudged well behind from the rear.

"O …should I tell the master that you think his planning is poor? That he misplaces his trust to you?" asked Oberon grinning.

"No…it's not like that…." Complained Targen miserably.

"Or….should I tell the Master that you were stymied in your efforts by the jackalope of crusaders?"

"Jackalope of crusaders?" asked Malleus raising an eyebrow.

"Oh you know, an impossible combination made by mortal taxidermists that love to play with their audience. Half rabbit, half antelope? I've also seen fur covered fish, and monkey mermaids. It's quite amusing at how many fools actually believe these ridiculous creations," explained Oberon.

"Ridiculous creations?" inquired Malleus.

Oberon sighed. He was surrounded by half wits. He knew that Targen wasn't that bright and easily intimidated, but had expected more from the Cambion. " Aye…a paladin riding a red dragon of all things, is a freak of nature. To have two of them is definitely an exaggeration by our friend there."

"I'm not lying, there were two paladins riding red dragons. I ..I can see their auras," grunted Targen as he fell further behind. The bulk of the Ice Devil, even minus head, an arm , and a tail was still quite cumbersome.

"Yes, we all believe that a red dragon, the most capricious self-serving avarice driven dragons of the mortal realms, would agree to have a paladin, the mortal embodiment of truth, justice, and law, ride them into battle. Their moral outlook are on opposite ends of the alignment spectrum. They should be tearing each other apart not cooperating. It is unlikely as, ….say an Eladrin like myself, courting one of those lovely Erinyes women from the pit. It would certainly be an entertaining challenge, but it would never work in the long run. I would burn off her wings with my holy fire long before she got irritating," explained Oberon.

"Or….our friend Reyzenhart here, trying to protect Fiawa and her other Azata friend, most likely that Bralani. We all saw how well that turned out," commented Malleus with an amused grunt.

The trio chuckled lightly , as all three seemed to find some humor at the Cambion's rare attempt at jest. The Ice Devil would have eventually fallen under their might, but they all admitted it would have been a tough scrap. Having that Bralani wind spirit appear out of nowhere, and stabbing him in the back seemed almost tragically comical.

Oberon seemed amused most of all, as he dug out Reyzenhart's Insect skull and began to use it as a prop in a poor ventriloquist act. "Stay back toad voiced Eladrin women, I, Bug Face the great, will handle these ruffians,"said the Tulani from the corner of his mouth as he bounced the head up and down to the rhythm of his words. "Just get behind and me and…arrrghh…ackk…..gurrgglee….." said the Tulani as he froze his face in a surprised look from the implied unexpected attack.

Targen broke out laughing, while Malleus grinded his teeth in an attempt to suppress his laughter.

"All jest aside," commented the Cambion as it regained its composure." The Order of the Husky is a real thing. They came on the scene roughly fifty years ago, and smashed one of my lord Grazzt's raiding parties into the concordant planes. I can attest that they are paladins and do ride red dragons. "

"Eh, why haven't I heard of them then?" asked Oberon.

"Most likely they keep a low profile. The Huntsman of Arborea or the Swords of Celestia get more recognition simply because they fight directly against both sides of the Blood Wars. These knights are more choosy in their opponents. "

"A sign of weakness perhaps? Maybe they lack the numbers or strength to battle their enemies directly? And so they choose easy battles they can win to boost their reputation, " Oberon guessed.

"Something you are intimately aware of," hissed Targen in the back.

"What was that?" shouted Oberon with a scowl.

"Nothing…nothing my lord," groveled the Horn Devil.

Malleus ignored the bickering pair and thought hard over it. "Perhaps. We did not scout them directly after they destroyed my master's raid, but we did use divination magics. I would peg their number at around 100 with thirty dragon riders. Though that number is unreliable considering the nature of that branch of sorcery. They are well trained, and do not seem to possess that moral split you hinted at earlier."

Oberon shrugged. "Hmm, so they are powerful, but don't wish to engage directly. Sounds like cowards to me."

"Something else you know very well," hissed Targen again. This time however, the Tulani lord was readied and spun around firing a beam of radiant energy from his eyes directly at the Horned Devil's head. Targen froze, but the beam simply burnt off one of his horns.

"Sorry, thought I saw one of those swamp flies. You know, one of those insignificant insects that always annoy their betters. A person can only put up with them so long, before they must be swatted," noted the Tulani with a hard stare directed at the Targen.

The Horned devil bowed its head, even as its horn was smouldering from the holy blaze. Oberon smiled, because his radiant energy was considered a blessed light, the horn would not grow back without healing magic, something in short supply of in the lower planes. The Horned Devil would forever keep that broken horn as a reminder of his insolence.

Malleus looked back, and permitted himself a smile at Targen's fate. "You know….you will push him too far one day, and then you'll have an enraged Horned Devil to deal with. I don't know what his problem is, but I guess cowardice is the reason he isn't in one the Pit's Legions."

Oberon chuckled. He raised his voice to make sure that Targen could hear him. "You give our lowly friend too much credit. I will explain since you have only recently come into the Master's service and don't know all the ins and outs yet. Targen here might appear to be a mighty Horned Devil, but he isn't. He's nothing but a lowly Spinagon, you know one of those comical little imps from the Pit that throw flaming spikes at people. Trash really, akin to Dretches from your Abyss, or those fairy like Coures from Arborea. The Master in his early days needed servants, and found this grovelling little sycophant hiding from an escaped human slave of all things. He, she, it , them or whatever it chooses to call itself took Targen in, and has been siphoning a bit of their power into him as their own power grew. He might look all powerful and impressive, but he's just a scrawny little spikey imp under that huge infernal shell. I'm not sure how permanent his power is, but we both know power that is easily given is power that is easily taken away. "

Targen grew silent, but continued to march with his burden. The Horned Devil did not challenge Oberon's statement.

"Interesting," noted Malleus. "My brothers and I joined the Master for promises of greater and greater battles. Judging the quality of opposition that we've encountered so far, I am not displeased. Targen here appears to have join from both fear for his safety and greed at the power he's gained. What is your motivation Lord Oberon, If you don't mind me asking? I don't see what a Tulani noble has to gain with allying itself to a denizen trapped in the Gray Wastes, regardless of how powerful it is."

Oberon's visage grew dim. He turned his wrathful gaze towards Malleus, but saw that the Cambion's hand was brushing some imaginary dust off his shoulders, inches away from drawing his Obsidian blade. He was baiting him into a fight. Oberon would not have hesitated in fighting this dark mercenary, but only at the place and time of his choosing. Instead of firing a bolt of radiant energy, the Tulani lord relented to the question," Vengeance. I was cast out of the Court of Stars by lies. My peers should have seen through the untruths told about me, but they were afraid and jealous, so they exiled me to maintain the wretched balance in their court. The Master here offers me a means to visit my wrath upon Arborea, something which I intend to do. "

The Cambion nodded and continued his stoic march forward through the muck till they reached a stone archway overgrown with vines. While standard travel magic did not work in Carceri, there were certain rituals and more importantly access points that allowed access into and around it. Fade Towns like Trevvan were commonly used by merchants, since they entered the plane in a relatively safe spot. The River Styx and its sister the less commonly traversed Lethe was fraught with danger, but was a very reliable mode of transport, and of course the rare and ancient portals and gateways that littered the realm. While most people knew of them, using them was a different matter. Some required command words, others only worked only at a certain time, still others required some specific type of foci to use. The one before them that lead to the Gray Wastes however required no such 'key'. The fact that it took its user directly to the Field of Nettles was ward enough to keep most travelers out.

"Hmm…I thought we cleared these things the other day, " noted Oberon as he examined the strange vegetation growing on the archway.

Malleus did not reply but simply walked through the archway vanishing in a swirl of motes.

Oberon followed. "March faster Targen. This swamp is nothing, compared to the Field of Nettles. Given the nature of that accursed battlefield, who knows how long our march would take from there. Our master is patient, but there are limits," he warned before he too was swallowed in motes.


End file.
